The Paternalist Is A Sentimentalist At Heart,

Waking Up Begins With Saying Am And Now. That Which Has Awoken Then Lies For A While Staring Up At The Ceiling And Down Into Itself Until It Has Recognized I, And Therefrom Deduced I Am, I Am Now. Here Comes Next, And Is At Least Negatively Reassuring; Because Here, This Morning, Is Where It Has Expected To Find Itself: What’s Called At Home.

Staring And Staring Into The Mirror, It Sees Many Faces Within Its Face - The Face Of The Child, The Boy, The Young Man, The Not-so-young Man - All Present Still, Preserved Like Fossils On Superimposed Layers, And, Like Fossils, Dead. Their Message To This Live Dying Creature Is: Look At Us - We Have Died - What Is There To Be Afraid Of? It Answers Them: But That Happened So Gradually, So Easily. I'm Afraid Of Being Rushed.

The Past Is Just Something That's Over.

I Am A Camera With Its Shutter Open, Quite Passive, Recording, Not Thinking.

Lois And Alexander Are By Far The Most Beautiful Creatures In The Class; Their Beauty Is Like The Beauty Of Plants, Seemingly Untroubled By Vanity, Anxiety Or Effort.