Consider incompleteness as a verb.

I mean, every thought starts over, so every expression of a thought has to do the same. every accuracy has to be invented... I feel I am blundering in concepts too fine for me.

Novels institutionalize the ruse of eros. It becomes a narrative texture of sustained incongruence, emotional and cognitive. It permits the reader to stand in triangular relation to the characters in the story and reach into the text after the objects of their desire, sharing their longing but also detached from it, seeing their view of reality but also its mistakenness. It is almost like being in love.

M: Is he smart I: She yes very smart sees right through me M: In my day we valued blindness rather more

Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.

What makes life life and not a simple story? Jagged bits moving never still, all along the wall.

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.