For I did not want him to see, or to question me, for here contains already secrets, and my secrets are my fortune and my sanity.
There are some sufferings that we seem as a creature to forget, or we would never survive as a creature among all the other creatures.
I am old enough to know that time passing is just a trick, a convenience. Everything is always there, still unfolding, still happening. The past, the present, and the future, in the noggin eternally, like brushes, combs and ribbons in a handbag.
I was well aware how famously or infamously secretive these old institutions can be, no more than ourselves, a mixture of worry, lost power, perhaps even concern. That the truth may not always be desirable, that one thing leads to another thing, that...
