In their shoes I'd be content with my knowing what I know, I'd demand no more of me than to know that what I hear is not the innocent and necessary sound of dumb things constrained to endure, but the terror stricken babble of the condemned to silence. I would have pity, give me quittance, not harry me into appearing my own destroyer.
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Unnamable - pg. 64
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