Maybe The Kindle Was The Bowflex Of

Just As The People Who Lived Through The Second World War Thought Different Things On Different Days, I Think Everybody Who Goes Through That Period Carefully Now Thinks Different Things On Different Days.

I No Longer Want To Live In An Apartment Furnished With Forklifts And Backhoes.

You Almost Believe That You Will Never Come To The End Of A Roll Of Tape; And When You Do, There Is A Feeling, Nearly, Though Very Briefly, Of Shock And Grief.

The Force Of Truth That A Statement Imparts, Then, Its Prominence Among The Hordes Of Recorded Observations That I May Optionally Apply To My Own Life, Depends, In Addition To The Sense That It Is Argumentatively Defensible, On The Sense That Someone Like Me, And Someone I Like, Whose Voice Is Audible And Who Is At Least Notionally In The Same Room With Me, Does Or Can Possibly Hold It To Be Compellingly True.

In The Novel, I Can Change Things And Simplify, And Make Events Work Towards Whatever Meanings I'm Trying To Get At More Efficiently.