A Book Should Be An Axe To

I Must Not Fall Asleep In The Middle Of My Life. Out Of The Blankness That Surrounds Me I Must Pluck The Incident After Incident After Incident Whose Little Explosions Keep Me Going.

We Are Not By Nature Cruel.

Once I Lived In Time As A Fish In Water, Breathing It, Drinking It, Sustained By It. Now I Kill Time And Time Kills Me.

She Gives Him What He Can Only Call A Sweet Smile. 'so You Are Determined To Go On Being Bad. Mad, Bad, And Dangerous To Know. I Promise, No One Will Ask You To Change.

I Am Spoken To Not In Words, Which Come To Me Quaint And Veiled, But In Signs, In Conformations Of Face And Hands, In Postures Of Shoulders And Feet, In Nuances Of Tune And Tone, In Gaps And Absences Whose Grammar Has Never Been Recorded.