Later - when things happened that they could never have imagined - she wrote him a letter that said: When will you learn that there isn't a word for everything

There are moments when a kind of clarity comes over you, and suddenly you can see through walls to another dimension that you'd forgotten or chosen to ignore in order to continue living with the various illusions that make life, particularily life with other people, possible.

I scowled at the world. And the world scowled back. We were locked in a stare of mutual disgust.

To me, this is the singular privilege of reading literature: we are allowed to step into another's life.

THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKY Leopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920. He died learning to walk. He died standing at the blackboard. And once, also, carrying a heavy tray. He died practicing a new way to sign his name. Opening a window. Washing his genitals in the bath. He died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone. Or he died thinking about Alma. Or when he chose not to.

It's one of those unforgettable moments that happen as a child, when you discover that all along the world has been betraying you.

In nature forms are endlessly being destroyed and then recreated and destroyed and recreated. Nature isn't afraid to destroy forms in the process of regenerating. So why are we afraid of that in life?