Because If One Has An Image, However

Lord Knows What Incommunicable Small Terrors Infants Go Through, Unknown To All. We Disregard Them, We Say They Forget, Because They Have Not The Words To Make Us Remember. ... By The Time They Learn To Speak They Have Forgotten The Details Of Their Complaints, And So We Never Know. They Forget So Quickly, We Say, Because We Cannot Contemplate The Fact That They Never Forget.

The Middle Years, Caught Between Children And Parents, Free Of Neither: The Past Stretches Back Too Densely, It Is Too Thickly Populated, The Future Has Not Yet Thinned Out.

I Confidently Predict The Collapse Of Capitalism And The Beginning Of History. Something Will Go Wrong In The Machinery That Converts Money Into Money, The Banking System Will Collapse Totally, And We Will Be Left Having To Barter To Stay Alive. Those Who Can Dig In Their Garden Will Have A Better Chance Than The Rest. I'll Be All Right; I've Got A Few Veg.

London, How Could One Ever Be Tired Of It?

Men And Women Can Never Be Close. They Can Hardly Speak To One Another In The Same Language. But Are Compelled, Forever, To Try, And Therefore Even In Defeat There Is No Peace.