At forty, in Baltimore. Filthy, starving, drunk and/or with delirium tremens, crying out at unseen creatures.
For the love of God, Montresor!
David Markson, Reader’s Block
At forty, in Baltimore. Filthy, starving, drunk and/or with delirium tremens, crying out at unseen creatures.
For the love of God, Montresor!
David Markson, Reader’s Block
“What was civilization ever, really, but the attempt by man to talk himself into being good? Only good, mind you. The rest had to be shoved somewhere out of sight, under the rug. Which History indeed did, at times politely, at times police-ly, and yet something was always sticking out, breaking loose, overthrowing.”
Stanisław Lem
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