"When the shadow of the sash appeared on the curtain it was between seven and eight oclock and then I was in time again, hearing the watch. It was Grandfather's and when Father gave it to me he said I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire; it's rather excruciating-ly apt that you will use it to gain the reducto absurdum of all human experience which can fit your individual needs no better than it fitted his or his father's. I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your breath trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools."

aeroplane reading sometimes so good. it's funny coming out of the dark of benjy's mind into this river. funny such a gorgeous river fed by such a tight-ass harvard white man. reading that it reminds me that no, not everyone is a writer. he was a writer. he is a writer. the rest of us, well, we're lucky to get out of the mud for even a second, a word.