I Have Always Kept Ducks, Even As

No One Can Explain Exactly What Happens Within Us When The Doors Behind Which Our Childhood Terrors Lurk Are Flung Open.

Everything Our Civilization Has Produced Is Entombed.

At The Time I Could No More Believe My Eyes Than Now I Can Trust My Memory.

It Makes One’s Head Heavy And Giddy, As If One Were Not Looking Back Down The Receding Perspectives Of Time But Rather Down On The Earth From A Great Height, From One Of Those Towers Whose Tops Are Lost To View In The Clouds

I Feel More And More As If Time Did Not Exist At All... Only Various Spaces Interlocking According To The Rules Of A Higher Form Of Stereometry[the Geometric Measurement Of Solid Bodies], Between Which The Living And The Dead Can Move Back And Forth As They Like, And The Longer I Think About It The More It Seems To Me That We Who Are Still Alive Are Unreal In The Eyes Of The Dead.