Sarcasm... The Protest Of Those Who Are

Sarcasm Is The Protest Of The Weak.

Looking Back Now Across Fifteen Years I Could See With Great Clarity The Fear I Had Lived In, Which Must Mean That In The Interval I Had Succeeded In A Very Important Undertaking: I Must Have Made My Escape From It.

It Seemed Clear That Wars Were Not Made By Generations And Their Special Stupidities, But That Wars Were Made Instead By Something Ignorant In The Human Heart

I Began To Know That Each Morning Reasserted The Problems Of Night Before, That Sleep Suspended All But Changed Nothing, That You Couldn’t Make Yourself Over Between Dawn And Dusk.

As I Said, This Was My Sarcastic Summer. It Was Only Long After That I Recognized Sarcasm As The Protest Of People Who Are Weak.