I read many things. I read to fill in my knowledge of the world.

I came to London. It had become the center of my world and I had worked hard to come to it. And I was lost.

I knew the door I wanted. I knocked.

The world is always in movement.

My grief is that the publishing world, the book writing world is an extraordinary shoddy, dirty, dingy world.

The world outside existed in a kind of darkness; and we inquired about nothing.