“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw,’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.”
“The Bear went over the mountain, the Bear went over the mountain. The Bear went over the mountain,
to see what he could see. But all that he could see. But all that he could see.”