"I'm having another sip of tap water. My blindfold mask has fallen, the authors have returned to their word-children and my curiosity has been quenched, as has my quadrilingual спрага, Durst, жажда, thirst."
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"She'd take it off and put it back on, flick it, spin it on the kitchen table. Thought of melting it in the oven, throwing it out the window, letting it slip through the open drain in the bathroom."
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"Last Sunday I bought an old, flea market suitcase so that I could put in it disheveled piles of books conspiring to build up yet another wall next to my bed. (...)Now, a week later, I am quite certain that these books just had to be locked up! (...)safely locked up, they cannot haunt me
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