A tiny radish of passionate scarlet, tipped modestly in white.

Strange, to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition, every man and wife gazing and smiling at them.

Our brains are flies, bats, and worms that clumped together for mutual advantage. These parts of our brains are talking to each other all the time. Translating what they perceive, moment to moment, into the shared language of geometry. That’s what a brain is. That’s what it is to be conscious.

When you publish a book, it’s the world’s book. The world edits it.

Written By Philip Roth

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