A Confessional Passage Has Probably Never Been

Life Is A Game, Boy. Life Is A Game That One Plays According To The Rules.

I Don't Know What Good It Is To Know So Much And Be Smart As Whips And All If It Doesn't Make You Happy.

The Rest, With Very Little Exaggeration, Was Books. Meant-to-be-picked-up Books. Permanently-left-behind Books. Uncertain-what-to-do-with Books. But Books, Books. Tall Cases Lined Three Walls Of The Room, Filled To And Beyond Capacity. The Overflow Had Been Piled In Stacks On The Floor. There Was Little Space Left For Walking, And None Whatever For Pacing.

If Somebody At Least Listens It Not Too Bad

Maybe There's A Trapdoor Under My Chair, And I'll Just Disappear.