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And I realize now that the two main themes of my novels were stated by my siblings: “Here I am cleaning shit off of practically everything” and “No pain.”
The public health authorities never mention the main reason many Americans have for smoking heavily, which is that smoking is a fairly sure, fairly honorable form of suicide.
I have six children, three of my own and three of my sister’s.
America had changed in many ways, but it had yet to adopt the metric system.
“If you go back through history, you’ll find that the people who have been most eager to rule, to make the laws, to enforce the laws and to tell everybody exactly how God Almighty wants things here on Earth—those people have forgiven themselves and their friends for anything and everything. But they have been absolutely disgusted and terrified by the natural sexuality of common men and women.
People in my business—and maybe people in general—have an unsavory habit of sizing up a man’s house, car, and suit, and estimating his annual income.
All my pleasures are looking at what used to be pleasures.”
The question is, rather, whether or not America is to enter a new and distressing phase of history where men no longer pursue happiness but buy it.
“Now I understand you poor fish,” I said. “You couldn’t get along without fear. That’s the only skill you’ve got—how to scare yourselves and other people into doing things. That’s the only fun you’ve got, watching people jump for fear of what you’ll do to their bodies or take away from their bodies.”
“Think of it this way,” said Helmholtz. “Our aim is to make the world more beautiful than it was when we came into it. It can be done. You can do it.” A small cry of despair came from Jim Donnini. It was meant to be private, but it pierced every ear with its poignancy. “How?” said Jim. “Love yourself,” said Helmholtz, “and make your instrument sing about it. A-one, a-two, a-three.” Down came his baton.
