The normal economic system works itself.

One is seduced and battered in turn. The result is presumably wisdom. Wisdom! We are clinging to life like lizards. Why is it so difficult to assemble those things that really matter in life and to dwell among them only? I am referring to certain landscapes, persons, beasts, books, rooms, meteorological conditions, fruits. In fact, I insist on it. A letter is like a poem, it leaps into life and shows very clearly the marks, perhaps I should say thumbprints, of an unwilling or unready composer.

It's tremendous: this world, this life. Take it while you have it.

ONE OF THE LAST GREAT REALIZATIONS is that life will not be what you dreamed.

Certain things I remember exactly as they were. They are merely discolored a bit by time, like coins in the pocket of a forgotten suit. Most of the details, though, have long since been transformed or rearranged to bring others of them forward. Some, in fact, are obviously counterfeit; they are no less important. One alters the past to form the future.

Dialogue's a method of revelation, of course. A few words of dialogue can reveal worlds about a character.

Now they are lovers. The first, wild courses are ended. They have founded their domain. A satanic happiness follows.