Please — Consider Me A

The Old Incapacity. Interrupted My Writing For Barely Ten Days And Already Cast Out. Once Again Prodigious Efforts Stand Before Me. You Have To Dive Down, As It Were, And Sink More Rapidly Than That Which Sinks In Advance Of You.

But Questions That Don’t Answer Themselves At The Very Moment Of Their Asking Are Never Answered.

It's Impossible To Defend Oneself In The Absence Of Goodwill

You Are So Vulnerably Haunting. Your Eeriness Is Terrifyingly Irresistible.

If The Book We Are Reading Does Not Wake Us, As With A Fist Hammering On Our Skull, Why Then Do We Read It?