Literature Is The Art Of Discovering Something

Don't Be Upset. Don't Listen To Me. I Only Meant That I Am Jealous Of A Dark, Unconscious Element, Something Irrational, Unfathomable. I Am Jealous Of Your Toilet Articles, Of The Drops Of Sweat On Your Skin, Of The Germs In The Air You Breathe Which Could Get Into Your Blood And Poison You. And I Am Jealous Of Komarovsky, As If He Were An Infectious Disease. Someday He Will Take You Away, Just As Certainly As Death Will Someday Separate Us. I Know This Must Seem Obscure And Confused, But I Can't Say It More Clearly. I Love You Madly, Irrationally, Infinitely.

I Don't Like People Who Have Never Fallen Or Stumbled. Their Virtue Is Lifeless And It Isn't Of Much Value. Life Hasn't Revealed Its Beauty To Them.

They Don't Ask Much Of You. They Only Want You To Hate The Things You Love And To Love The Things You Despise.

The Great Majority Of Us Are Required To Live A Constant, Systematic Duplicity. Your Health Is Bound To Be Affected By It If, Day After Day, You Say The Opposite Of What You Feel, You Grovel Before What You Dislike And Rejoice At What Bring Brings You Nothing But Misfortune. Our Nervous System Isn’t Just A Fiction, It’s Part Of Our Physical Body, And Our Soul Exists In Space And Is Inside Us, Like Teeth In Our Mouth. It Can’t Be Forever Violated With Impunity.

... The Unarmed Power Of Naked Truth.