Life Seemed Even More Of A Guessing

(on Grief) And You Do Come Out Of It, That’s True. After A Year, After Five. But You Don’t Come Out Of It Like A Train Coming Out Of A Tunnel, Bursting Through The Downs Into Sunshine And That Swift, Rattling Descent To The Channel; You Come Out Of It As A Gull Comes Out Of An Oil-slick. You Are Tarred And Feathered For Life.

It Is A Bizarre Thought That In This [u.s. 2008] Presidential Cycle We Could Have Had A Woman In The White House We Might Have A Black Man In The White House But If Either Of Them Had Said They Were Atheists Neither Of Them Would Have Had A Hope In Hell.

..books Look As If They Contain Knowledge, While E-readers Look As If They Contain Information.

I Have At Times Tried To Imagine The Despair Which Leads To Suicide, Attempted To Conjure Up The Slew And Slop Of Darkness In Which Only Death Appears As A Pinprick Of Light: In Other Words, The Exact Opposite Of The Normal Condition Of Life.

Was It The Case That Colours Dimmed As The Eye Grew Elderly? Or Was It Rather That In Youth Your Excitement About The World Transferred Itself Onto Everything You Saw And Made It Brighter?