your curiosity is like a cushion filled with pins without their heads ... you can't hold it for long and it's painful when you squeeze it ... you run so quickly out of time there's just a needlepoint left behind ... well more than one but each is as narrow and shallow as the other ... what would it mean to have a wilderness of these meaningless points ... as many as there are atoms in the universe ... and one more ... the one point all the others sense is present ... the one point of light that all the dark points almost remember and never completely forget ... the point that says of cold and warm it's better to be warm ... of hard and firm firm ... of soft and curved both ... a strong thigh marching across the paradeground to music ... there's always the strong thigh ... but a word spoken ... just the right word at just the right time ... that too is this one point speaking ... there comes a point the last point at the end of the game when you roll the dice one more time and the dice they too are speaking ... the world is filled with a word and the world turns to it ... in all our life it pushed us just once ... once ... and now it never stops pulling
cf capon, the third peacock, ch 4
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