I saw that my witticism was unperceived and quietly replaced it in the treasury of my mind.

When a man sleeps, he is steeped and lost in a limp toneless happiness: awake he is restless, tortured by his body and the illusion of existence. Why have men spent the centuries seeking to overcome the awakened body? Put it to sleep, that is a better way. Let it serve only to turn the sleeping soul over, to change the blood-stream and thus make possible a deeper and more refined sleep.

The dusk was performing its customary intransitive operation of "gathering".

It is clear enough that you are making some distinction in what you said, that there is some nicety of terminology in your words. I can't quite follow you.

I saw that my witticism was unperceived and quietly replaced it in the treasury of my mind.

Another day gone and no jokes.

The continual cracking of your feet on the road makes a certain quantity of road come up into you. When a man dies they say he returns to clay but too much walking fills you up with clay far sooner (or buries bits of you along the road) and brings your death half-way to meet you. It is not easy to know what is the best way to move yourself from one place to another.