I’ve already tamed you, haven’t I? You almost admire the rioters, don’t you? What would you do then, tell me. Thought not. You can’t even get rid of me, let alone any of those rightwing fucks you hate so much. We were forced back into our own hole as soon as we tried to stick our head up, weren’t we? We tried again from time to time, but it was like a hit-the-mole game, wasn’t it? And now we’re stuck with our own little hit-the-mole game.
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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