Unfortunately, my feet could not keep pace with my soul (p. 197).
Some musk which my system generates must be especially appealing to the authorities of the government . . . Like a bitch in heat, I seem to attract a coterie of policemen and sanitation officials (p. 198).
Perhaps the Quarter will provide me with some material: a crusade for taste and decency, for theology and geometry, perhaps (p. 200).
Suspendedly,
Lance, Your Besieged Working Boy
manwithoutqualities 