“
Old age is, it occurs to Busner as he lies stranded on his side staring at the clock radio, a form of institutionalisation -- it deprives you of your identity and supplies another, simpler one, it takes away your clothing and issues you with a uniform of slack-waisted trousers, threadbare jackets and moth-eaten cardigans, togs that are either coming from or going to charity shops. This done, it commits you to a realm at once confined and unbounded, an atrophying circuit of corridors that connect
...more
”
― Umbrella
― Umbrella
“
Thought is a melody, Audrey thinks, while the body is an inert mechanism of cogs, springs, chains and ratchets...
”
― Umbrella
― Umbrella
