Notes, Part Deux

All of my power expresses itself in the form of apathy. As the one
grows, so does the other.

I think if people don't write, they go crazy. They also go crazy if they
write, but in a less haphazard, more structured way.

He is as fastidious as a man of large, ungainly appetite can be.

She is incapable of accountability, to say nothing of contrition. But it
would be an injustice not to give her a chance to exceed her moral
incapacity.

For him, it's less about terrible abjection, and more about golf.

And then, perhaps, the underminer shall become the undermined.