The Novel Wins By Points, The Short

Time Is Born In The Eyes, Everybody Knows That.

The Modern Story Begun, One Might Say, With Edgar Allan Poe, Which Proceeds Inexorably, Like A Machine Destined To Accomplish Its Mission With The Maximum Economy Of Means.

Where Are The Beginnings, The Endings, And Most Important, The Middles?

Only By Living Absurdly Is It Possible To Break Out Of This Infinite Absurdity.

Human History Is The Sad Result Of Each One Looking Out For Himself.