The fact is that we're all lonely, of course. Everyone knows this, it's almost a cliche. So yet another layer of my essential fraudulence is that I pretended to myself that my loneliness was special, that it was uniquely my fault because I was somehow especially fraudulent and hollow. It's not special at all, we've all got it. In spades.
--David Foster Wallace, Good Old Neon


thisanjali said...


daniel said...

This is almost the exact point when it dawns on you that you might have to set the book down after you've finished that one and maybe just breathe a little.

SAM said...

Hah--yep. I got about halfway through and put it down. Oh man, Daniel, it has been A+ from the very first paragraph.