Nostalgia, The Vice Of The Aged.

Nothing Is A Matter Of Life And Death Except Life And Death.

For Hours, For Days, For Years, She Had Wandered Endlessly Within Herself But Never Met Anybody, Nobody.

Proposition One: Time Is A Man, Space Is A Woman.

Just Because We're Sisters Under The Skin Doesn't Mean We've Got Much In Common.

Cats Of All Kinds Weave In And Out Of The Text; Burroughs Has Clearly Taken To Them In A Big Way In His Old Age And Seems Torn Between A Fear They Will Betray Him Into Sentimentality And A Resigned Acceptance That A Man Can't Be Ironic All The Time.