I could just remember how my father used to say that the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.
Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.
The universal benefit of religion is that it gets the children out of the house on Sunday mornings.' 'But education gets them out of the house five days a week.
Time? Time? Why worry about something that takes care of itself so well? You were born with the habit of consuming time. Be satisfied with that.
Time, the spaces of light and dark, had long since lost orderliness.
And so I told myself to take that one. Because Father said clocks slay time. He said time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life. The hands were extended, slightly off the horizontal at a faint angle, like a gull tilting into the wind.
