Even Bad Books Are Books And Therefore

I Shall Speak Of How Melancholy And Utopia Preclude One Another. How They Fertilize One Another... Of The Revulsion That Follows One Insight And Precedes The Next... Of Superabundance And Surfeit. Of Stasis In Progress. And Of Myself, For Whom Melancholy And Utopia Are Heads And Tails Of The Same Coin.

People Have Always Told Tales. Long Before Humanity Learned To Write And Gradually Became Literate, Everybody Told Tales To Everybody Else And Everybody Listened To Everybody Else's Tales. Before Long It Became Clear That Some Of The Still Illiterate Storytellers Told More And Better Tales Than Others, That Is, They Could Make More People Believe Their Lies.

My Relationship With Wilhelm And Jacob Grimm Reaches Far Back Into My Childhood. I Grew Up With Grimm's Fairy Tales. I Even Saw A Theater Production Of 'tom Thumb' During Advent At The State Theater In Danzig, Which My Mother Took Me To See.

How Easily The Routine Of Sin Establishes Itself.

If Jesus Had Been A Hunchback, They Could Hardly Have Nailed Him To The Cross.