This Afternoon Held That Special Quality Of

There Would Be No Sherlock Holmes If It Were Not For Serial Publication.

I Would Rather Dance As A Ballerina, Though Faultily, Than As A Flawless Clown.

Nevertheless, Blood Is Thicker Than Water, As Anyone Knows Who Has Tasted Both.

But I Keep Going On With This Sad And Hungry And Sordid, This Limping And Mutilated Story, Because After All I Want You To Hear It, As I Will Hear Yours Too If I Ever Get The Chance, If I Meet You Or If You Escape, In The Future Or In Heaven Or In Prison Or Underground, Some Other Place. What They Have In Common Is That They're Not Here. By Telling You Anything At All I'm At Least Believing In You, I Believe You're There, I Believe You Into Being. Because I'm Telling You This Story I Will Your Existence. I Tell, Therefore You Are.

People Cry At Weddings For The Same Reason They Cry At Happy Endings: Because They So Desperately Want To Believe In Something They Know Is Not Credible.