My only recourse is the expedient of placing at the service of truth what has been given me by the Father of Lies.
I pray like a robber asking alms at the door of a farmhouse to which he is ready to set fire.
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one's ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
Notes for a fragmentary novel entitled The Moment, linked at the top of the page.
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