I Have My Faults, But Changing My

Words Are All We Have.

Have You Not Done Tormenting Me With Your Accursed Time! It's Abominable! When! When! One Day, Is That Not Enough For You, One Day He Went Dumb, One Day I Went Blind, One Day We'll Go Deaf, One Day We Were Born, One Day We Shall Die, The Same Day, The Same Second, Is That Not Enough For You? They Give Birth Astride Of A Grave, The Light Gleams An Instant, Then It's Night Once More.

The Blind Have No Notion Of Time. The Things Of Time Are Hidden From Them Too.

Do They [the Publishers Of Murphy] Not Understand That If The Book Is Slightly Obscure It Is Because It Is A Compression And Thatto Compress It Further Can Only Make It More Obscure?

Memories Are Killing. So You Must Not Think Of Certain Things, Of Those That Are Dear To You, Or Rather You Must Think Of Them, For If You Don’t There Is The Danger Of Finding Them, In Your Mind, Little By Little.