I'll Bet Shakespeare Compromised Himself A Lot;

But Seriously, I Believe I'm A Sort Of Ideal Woman, If You Know What I Mean. I'm The Sort Of Woman Who Can Take Men Away From Their Wives, But I Could Never Keep Anybody For Long. And That's Because I'm The Type Which Every Man Imagines He Wants, Until He Gets Me; And Then He Finds He Doesn't Really, After All.

For A Few Minutes, Maybe, Life Lingers In The Tissues Of Some Outlying Regions Of The Body. Then, One By One, The Lights Go Out And There Is Total Blackness. And Ifsome Part Of The Non—entity We Called George Has Indeed Been Absent At This Moment Of Terminal Shock, Away Out There On The Deep Water, Then It Will Return To Find Itself Homeless.

But Now Isn’t Simply Now. Now Is Also A Cold Reminder: One Whole Day Later Than Yesterday, One Year Later Than Last Year. Every Now Is Labeled With Its Date, Rendering All Past Nows Obsolete, Until — Later Of Sooner — Perhaps — No, Not Perhaps — Quite Certainly: It Will Come.

In Ten Minutes They Will Have Arrived On Campus. George Will Have To Be George; The George They Have Named And Will Recognise. So Now He Consciously Applies Himself To Thinking Their Thoughts, Getting Into Their Mood. With The Skill Of A Veteran, He Rapidly Puts On The Psychological Makeup For This Role He Must Play.

To Live Sanely In Los Angeles ... You Have To Cultivate The Art Of Staying Awake. You Must Learn To Resist (firmly But Not Tensely) The Unceasing Hypnotic Suggestions Of The Radio, The Billboards, The Movies And The Newspapers; Those Demon Voices Which Are Forever Whispering In Your Ear What You Should Desire, What You Should Fear, What You Should Wear And Eat And Drink And Enjoy, What You Should Think And Do And Be.