I Am At My Worst Trying To

The Answers Were Maddeningly Absent—it Was Like Trying To Remember A Song That You Knew Made You Feel A Certain Way, Without A Title, Artist, Or Even A Few Bars To Bring It Back.

It Was The Hat. He Looked Sweet In The Hat. How Could A Man In A Fuzzy Blue Hat Have Used Human Bones To Pave His Roads?

She'd Risked Everything, And Here Was The Result: The Raw, Warped Core Of Her Life.

So I Feel That Lack Of Qualification. And I'm Scared. And I Have A Tendency To Think Things May Not/probably Won't Work Out. That's My Basic Mindset.

I Felt No Shame In These Activities, Because I Understood What Almost No One Else Seemed To Grasp: That There Was Only An Infinitesimal Difference, A Difference So Small That It Barely Existed Except As A Figment Of The Human Imagination, Between Working In A Tall Green Glass Building On Park Avenue And Collecting Litter In A Park. In Fact, There May Have Been No Difference At All.