“We are all dying to give our lives away to something, maybe. God or Satan, politics or grammar, topology or philately - the object seemed incidental to this will to give ourselves away, utterly. To games or needles, to some other person. Something pathetic about it. A flight-from in the form of a plunging-into. Flight from exactly what? These rooms, blandly filled with excrement and heat? To what purpose?”
― Infinite Jest
― Infinite Jest
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
― The Bell Jar
― The Bell Jar
Billy’s 2025 Year in Books
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