Once, I had a dream of fame. Generally, even then, I was lonely.

I also believe I met William Gaddis once. He did not look Italian.

Can Protagonist think of a single film that interests him as much as the three-hundredth best book he ever read?

What do any of us ever truly know?

The morning’s recollection of the emptiness of the day before. Its anticipation of the emptiness of the day to come.

You can learn more by going to the opera than you ever can by reading Emerson. Like that there are two sexes.

Doubtless these are inconsequential perplexities. Still, inconsequential perplexities have now and again been known to become the fundamental mood of existence, one suspects.