I Hated The Words. Each

Yes, Eden Was Beautiful- And If I Had To Squeeze Through Corporeal Keyholes To Crash It- So Be It. (hasn’t It Bothered You, This Part Of The Story, My Being There, I Mean? What Was I Doing There? ‘presume Not The Ways Of God To Scan,’ You’ve Been Told In Umpteen Variations, ‘the Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.’ Maybe So, But What, Excuse Me, Was The Devil Doing In Eden?) I Took The Forms Of Animals. I Found I Could. (that’s Generally My Reason For Doing Something, By The Way, Because I Find I Can.)

Bliss Defies Description, Obviously, Since It Annihilates You, Since You're Not There To Experience It. You Get The Lead-up And The Come-down, Never The Zenith.

The First Thing To Say About Eve Is That She Was A Big Improvement On The Adam Design, Or That Adam Was An Extremely Misguided Variation On The Eve Design. (consider Testicles. Two Concentrated Nuclei Of Absolute Vulnerability. Where? Dangling Between The Legs. I Rest My Case.)

Literature Is Humanity's Broad-minded Alter-ego, With Room In Its Heart For Monsters, Even For You. It's Humanity Without The Judgement.

She Understood The Genre Constraints, The Decencies Were Supposed To Be Observing. The Morally Cosy Vision Allows The Embrace Of Monstrosity Only As A Reaction To Suffering Or As An Act Of Rage Against The Almighty. Vampire Interviewee Louis Is In Despair At His Brother’s Death When He Accepts Lestat’s Offer. Frankenstein’s Creature Is Driven To Violence By The Violence Done To Him. Even Lucifer’s Rebellion Emerges From The Agony Of Injured Price. The Message Is Clear: By All Means Become An Abomination—but Only While Unhinged By Grief Or Wrath.