Absence, The Highest Form Of Presence.

I Am Tomorrow, Or Some Future Day, What I Establish Today. I Am Today What I Established Yesterday Or Some Previous Day.

Her Name Sprang To My Lips At Moments In Strange Prayers And Praises Which I Myself Did Not Understand. My Eyes Were Often Full Of Tears (i Could Not Tell Why) And At Times A Flood From My Heart Seemed To Pour Itself Out Into My Bosom. I Thought Little Of The Future. I Did Not Know Whether I Would Ever Speak To Her Or Not Or, If I Spoke To Her, How I Could Tell Her Of My Confused Adoration.

The Only Decent People I Ever Saw At The Racecourse Were Horses.

History, Stephen Said, Is A Nightmare From Which I Am Trying To Awake.

Gazing Up Into The Darkness I Saw Myself As A Creature Driven And Derided By Vanity; And My Eyes Burned With Anguish And Anger.