Nothing Got Inside The Head Without Becoming

The Human Species Was Given Dominion Over The Earth And Took The Opportunity To Exterminate Other Species And Warm The Atmosphere And Generally Ruin Things In Its Own Image, But It Paid This Price For Its Privileges: That The Finite And Specific Animal Body Of This Species Contained A Brain Capable Of Conceiving The Infinite And Wishing To Be Infinite Itself.

And Meanwhile The Sad Truth Was That Not Everyone Could Be Extraordinary, Not Everyone Could Be Extremely Cool; Because Whom Would This Leave To Be Ordinary?

Each New Thing He Encountered In Life Impelled Him In A Direction That Fully Convinced Him Of Its Rightness, But Then The Next New Thing Loomed Up And Impelled Him In The Opposite Direction, Which Also Felt Right. There Was No Controlling Narrative: He Seemed To Himself A Purely Reactive Pinball In A Game Whose Only Object Was To Stay Alive For Staying Alive's Sake.

And Silence Of The Lambs Is A Really Smart Book.

It's Just A Matter Of Writing The Kind Of Book I Enjoy Reading. Something Better Be Happening At The Beginning, And Then On Every Page After, Or I Get Irritated.