Be that as it may, it’s all I have to work with. Clutching these faded, fading, imperfect memories to my breast, I go on writing this book with all the desperate intensity of a starving man sucking on bones.
Making it up? said Marvin, swivelling his head in a parody of astonishment, Why should I want to make anything up? Life’s bad enough as it is without wanting to invent any more of it.
By oneself the evil is done, by oneself one suffers; by oneself evil is left undone, by oneself one is purified. Purity and impurity belong to oneself, no one can purify another.
I’m closing my eyes so I can feel being inside you. He placed his hand over his heart and rasped out, I’ve seen too many bad things with these eyes. This, I will feel in my heart.
