I'll Bet Shakespeare Compromised Himself A Lot;

Sometimes Awful Things Have Their Own Beauty.

Someone Has To Ask You A Question," George Continues Meaningly, "before You Can Answer It. But It's So Seldom You Find Anyone Who'll Ask The Right Questions. Most People Aren't That Much Interested.

In Ten Minutes They Will Have Arrived On Campus. George Will Have To Be George; The George They Have Named And Will Recognise. So Now He Consciously Applies Himself To Thinking Their Thoughts, Getting Into Their Mood. With The Skill Of A Veteran, He Rapidly Puts On The Psychological Makeup For This Role He Must Play.

The More I Think About Myself, The More I'm Persuaded That, As A Person, I Really Don't Exist. That Is One Of The Reasons Why I Can't Believe In Any Orthodox Religion: I Cannot Believe In My Own Soul. No, I Am A Chemical Compound, Conditioned By Environment And Education. My "character" Is Simply A Repertoire Of Acquired Tricks, My Conversation A Repertoire Of Adaptations And Echoes, My "feelings" Are Dictated By Purely Physical, External Stimuli.

But Now Isn’t Simply Now. Now Is Also A Cold Reminder: One Whole Day Later Than Yesterday, One Year Later Than Last Year. Every Now Is Labeled With Its Date, Rendering All Past Nows Obsolete, Until — Later Of Sooner — Perhaps — No, Not Perhaps — Quite Certainly: It Will Come.