Dusk Was Falling Quickly. It Was Just

My Imagination Functions Much Better When I Don't Have To Speak To People.

But There Were Too Many Points At Which The Other Self Could Invade The Self He Wanted To Preserve, And There Were Too Many Forms Of Invasion: Certain Words, Sounds, Lights, Actions His Hands Or Feet Performed, And If He Did Nothing At All, Heard And Saw Nothing, The Shouting Of Some Triumphant Inner Voice That Shocked Him And Cowed Him.

In View Of The Fact That I Surround Myself With Numbskulls Now, I Shall Die Among Numbskulls, And On My Deathbed Shall Be Surrounded By Numbskulls Who Will Not Understand What I Am Saying ... Whom Am I Sleeping With These Days ? Franz Kafka.

The Conversation Seemed Just As Boring And Forgettable As Details Of American History Around 1805, For Example.

I Can't Write If Someone Else Is In The House, Not Even The Cleaning Woman.