To Think New Thoughts You Have To

When You Live Alone You No Longer Know What It Is To Tell A Story: The Plausible Disappears At The Same Time As The Friends. You Let Events Flow By Too: You Suddenly See People Appear Who Speak And Then Go Away; You Plunge Into Stories Of Which You Can't Make Head Or Tail: You'd Make A Terrible Witness.

I Have No Need For Good Souls: An Accomplice Is What I Wanted.

There Is No Book Of Mine That I Reject. That Does Not Mean That I Find Them Good.

There It Is: I Am Gently Slipping Into The Water's Depths, Towards Fear.

If You Are Not Already Dead, Forgive. Rancor Is Heavy, It Is Worldly; Leave It On Earth: Die Light.