| XI Patterns of violence. Patterns of extreme violence and great gentleness. Of sacrifice and of destruction. Selfishness and selflessness. Loyalty and piety and charity. Evil and deceit. Devotion and honor. Natural fodder for the arts, as if basic nature were really changeable. |
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| XII The grey peach Paris dawn. Some kind of truth exists in this early morning air above ground. Usable stuff. Universal and timeless. Walking in Abelard's skin. Seeing with Baudelaire's eyes. Borrowing Proust's nose for a while. Or Sartre's ears. Stealing the joys and tragedies of the human race and taking them home. |
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