“What are you looking for?” I said. “Oh, secrets,” he said. “You know. Essences. Inherentnesses.” “Bravo on that ugly word. And?” “And there aren’t any.” “Mmm,” I said. “Awkward.” “That’s defeatist talk. I’ll cobble something together. A scholar can never let mere wrongness get in the way of the theory.” “Bravo again.” I toasted him.
