if you listen too hard to the technology, your ear goes deaf to its implications.

I don't suppose there's really any critic except posterity.

But memory, after a time, dispenses its own emphasis, making a feuilleton of what we once thought most ponderable, laying its wreath on what we never thought to recall.

Balance is compromise. Of the muscles.

How clerks love refusing. It salves them for being clerks.

In a family, the same spoken lines come in over and over. Intimacy exhausts.

It took most people a lifetime to join the human race.