Then I thought about the whole bunch of them sticking me in a goddam cemetery and all, with my name on this tombstone and all. Surrounded by dead guys. Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in a river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
The remainder of my schooldays were no more auspicious than the first. Indeed, they were an endless Project that slowly evolved into a Unit, in which miles of construction paper and wax crayon were expended by the State of Alabama in its well-meaning but fruitless efforts to teach me Group Dynamics.
See kuristik, mille poole sa veered, on erilist laadi, kohutav kuristik. Inimene, kes sinna kukub, ei tunne selle põhja. Ta aina langeb ja langeb. Niisugusesse kuristikku langevad inimesed, kes oma elu teataval perioodil on hakanud otsima midagi sellist, mida nende ümbrus neile pakkuda ei suuda. Või õigemini - kes arvavad, et nende ümbrus ei suuda seda neile pakkuda. Ja nad loobuvad otsimast. Loobuvad enne, kui nad on õieti alustanudki.