Oblivion Seemed The Only Reasonable Option.

Now, I'm An Atheist. I Really Don't Believe For A Moment That Our Moral Sense Comes From A God.

I'm Sorry To Say That Far Worse Things Have Happened And The Literature Of The Holocaust Is A Witness To The Capacity Of The Novel As A Form.

In A Story You Only Had To Wish, You Only Had To Write It Down And You Could Have The World...it Seemed So Obvious Now That It Was Too Late: A Story Was A Form Of Telepathy. By Means Of Inking Symbols Onto A Page, She Was Able To Send Thoughts And Feelings From Her Mind To Her Reader's. It Was A Magical Process, So Commonplace That No One Stopped To Wonder At It. Reading A Sentence And Understanding It Were The Same Thing; As With The Crooking Of A Finger, Nothing Lay Between Them. There Was No Gap During Which The Symbols Were Unraveled.

Self-consciousness Is The Destroyer Of Erotic Joy.

She Would Simply Wait On The Bridge, Calm And Obstinate, Until Events, Real Events, Not Her Own Fantasies, Roe To Her Challenge, And Dispelled Her Insignificance.