I Have Arranged My Little Life.

The Musty Smell, The Bugs, The Lonliness, This Room, Which Is Part Of The Street Outside-this Is All I Want From Life.

Not That She Objected To Solitude. Quite The Contrary. She Had Books, Thank Heaven, Quantities Of Books. All Sorts Of Books.

Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby, I Imagined That God, This Strange Thing Or Person I Heard About, Was A Book.

I Watched Her Die Many Times. In My Way, Not In Hers. In Sunlight, In Shadow, By Moonlight, By Candlelight. In The Long Afternoons When The House Was Empty. Only The Sun Was There To Keep Us Company. We Shut Him Out. And Why Not? Very Soon She Was As Eager For What's Called Loving As I Was - More Lost And Drowned Afterwards.

...i Know All About Myself Now, I Know. You've Told Me So Often. You Haven't Left Me One Rag Of Illusion To Clothe Myself In.