Everything Human Is Alien To

For Neither Life Nor Nature Cares If Justice Is Ever Done Or Not.

How Easy It Was To Lie When One Had To Lie!

And No Book, And Possibly No Painting, When It Is Finished, Is Ever Exactly Like The First Dream Of It.

But There Were Too Many Points At Which The Other Self Could Invade The Self He Wanted To Preserve, And There Were Too Many Forms Of Invasion: Certain Words, Sounds, Lights, Actions His Hands Or Feet Performed, And If He Did Nothing At All, Heard And Saw Nothing, The Shouting Of Some Triumphant Inner Voice That Shocked Him And Cowed Him.

Dusk Was Falling Quickly. It Was Just After 7 P.m., And The Month Was October.