SNOW WHITE THINKS: THE HOUSE
. . . WALLS. . . WHEN HE DOESNT. . .
IM NOT. . . IN THE DARK. . . SHOULDERS
. . . AFRAID. . . THE WATER WAS COLD
. . . WANT TO KNOW. . . EFFORTLESSLY. . .
SNOW WHITE THINKS: WHY AM I. . .
GLASS. . . HUNCHED AGAINST THE
WALL. . . INTELLIGENCE. . . TO RETURN
. . . A WALL. . . INTELLIGENCE. . . TO
RETURN. . . HES COLD. . . MIRROR. . .
"YOU have to learn to spell everything right," Paul told Emily. "That is the first thing I found intolerable, in other tries. Who spell Jeg f?ler mig daarligt tilpas? And all it means is I feel bad, and I already know that. That I feel bad. If it had meant, for example, The jug is folded uhe darling tulips. . ." "I uand," Emily said, but she didnt, because she was an animal. Not human. Her problems are not our problems. Fet her. "I try to be reasonable," Paul said, "civil with the telephone pany, brusque with the bank. That is what they have earhat bank, brusqueness, and they send me all the zinnia seeds in the world and I wont ge my opinion. But now that I am a part of the Abbey of Theleme, uhe thumb of our fat abbot, I do what I will. That jolly rogue and thi is drunk again, and does not know that I am here, at the catsellers war, earning a penny as a correspo for Cat World. Too bad Snow White is not here with me. It would be good for her, and good for me, and we could crawl behind that pile of used arquebus wads over there and tell each other what we are really like. I already know what I am really like, but I dont know what she is really like. She is probably really like no irl I have ever known -- unlike Joan, uitia, unlike Mary, unlike Amelia. Uhose old girls, with whom I spent parts of my youth, the parts that I left with all those priests, in all those dark boxes, with little curtains and sliding doors, before I threw in with the Thelemites, and began to do what I would. In all siy, I am not sure that I am better now than I was then, in those old days. At least then I did not know what I was doing. Now, I know."
"PAUL is frog. He is frog through and through. I thought he would, at some point, cast off his mottled wettish green-and-brown integument to reappear washed in the hundred glistering hues of priness. But he is pure frog. So. I am disappointed. Either I have overestimated Paul, or I have overestimated history. Iher case I have made a serious error. So. There it is. I have been disappointed, and am, doubtless, to be disappointed further. Total disappoi. Thats it. The red meat on the rug. The frogs legs on the floor."
"I LOVE YOU, Snow White." "I know, Hogo. I know because you have told me a thousand times. I do not doubt you. I am vinced of your siy and warmth. And I must admit that your tall brutality has made its impression ooo. I am not ued by your Prussian presence, or by the ed s you wear looped around your motorcycle doublet, or by your tasteful scars on the left and right cheeks. But this love must not be, because of your blood. You dont have the blood for this love, Hogo. Your blood is not fine enough. Oh I know that in this democratic era questions of blood are a little de trop, a little frowned-upon. People dont like to hear people talking about their blood, or about other peoples blood. But I am not people, Hogo. I am me. I must hold myself in reserve for a prince or prince-figure, someone like Paul. I knoaul has not looked terribly good up to now and in fact I despise him utterl