A Novel Is A Conversation Between A

You Know Your Problem, Quentin? You Keep Expecting People Not To Be Themselves.

What The Hell Is Instant? Nothing Is Instant.

It's Not Life Or Death, The Labyrinth. Suffering. Doing Wrong And Having Wrong Things Happen To You. That's The Problem. Bolivar Was Talking About The Pain, Not About The Living Or Dying. How Do You Get Out Of The Labyrinth Of Suffering?

You Never Know. It's Just. It's Like. Poof. And You're Gone.

I Was A Bit Of A Victorian Lady, Fainting-wise.