The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.
—Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Monday, September 20, 2010
As if words could unite an ardent intellect with the external material world. Listen to the drips. The limits of personality. It's in the nature of language to encourage, and in part to justify, such Faustian longings. Break them up into uncounted continuous and voluminous digressions. The very word "diary" depresses me.