❝And it shoves me along to certain corners, to certain damp houses, to hospitals where the bones come out of windows, to certain cobblers' shops smelling on vinegar, to streets horrendous as cervices. There are birds the colour of sulphur, and horrible intestines hanging from the doors of the houses which I hate. There are forgotten sets of teeth in a coffee-pot, there are mirrors which should have wept with shame and horror. There are umbrellas all over the place, and poisons, and navels. I stride along with calm, with eyes, with shoes, with fury, with forgetfulness. I pass, I cross offices and store full of orthopaedic appliances, underpants, towels, and shirts which weep slow dirty tears.❞

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