...and a dream away in space with neither her nor there where all the footsteps ever fell can never fare nearer to anywhere nor from anywhere further away. Nor for in the end again by degrees or as though switched on dark falls there again that certain dark that alone certain ashes can. Through it who knows yet another end beneath a cloudless sky of a last end if ever there had to be another absolutely had to be.

The essential is to go on squirming forever at the end of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven asporting God to plague his creature, per pro his chosen shits.

To think, when one is no longer young, when one is not yet old, that one is no longer young, that one is not yet old, that is perhaps something.

The only sin is the sin of being born.

It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.

I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.

I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.