The Author Enters Into His Own Death,

...what I Enjoy In A Narrative Is Not Directly Its Content Or Even Its Structure, But Rather The Abrasions I Impose Upon The Fine Surface: I Read On, I Skip, I Look Up, I Dip In Again. Which Has Nothing To Do With The Deep Laceration The Text Of Bliss Inflicts Upon Language Itself, And Not Upon The Simple Temporality Of Its Reading.

There Are Two Kinds Of Liberalism. A Liberalism Which Is Always, Subterraneously Authoritative And Paternalistic, On The Side Of One's Good Conscience. And Then There Is A Liberalism Which Is More Ethical Than Political; One Would Have To Find Another Name For This. Something Like A Profound Suspension Of Judgment.

The Politician Being Interviewed Clearly Takes A Great Deal Of Trouble To Imagine An Ending To His Sentence: And If He Stopped Short? His Entire Policy Would Be Jeopardized!

Those Who Fail To Reread Are Obliged To Read The Same Story Everywhere.

I Have Tried To Be As Eclectic As I Possibly Can With My Professional Life, And So Far It's Been Pretty Fun.