‘We are all dying to give ourselves away to something, maybe. God or Satan, politics or grammar, topology or philately–the object seemed incidental to this will to give one-self away, utterly. To games or needles, to some other person. Something pathetic about it. A flight-from in the form of a plunging-into. Flight from exactly what?’ - David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest, pg 900 [.]
No comments:
Post a Comment