quote · Legacy record
And when he surfaces to a cramped hand, a crick in the neck, the sunlight shifted across the floor, a sore blink, he knows that even to have written this little is an excess, it is an overflowing, an excretion. Too many words. There are just too many words. Nobody wants them; nobody needs them. And still they keep on, keep on, keep on coming..
And when he surfaces to a cramped hand, a crick in the neck, the sunlight shifted across the floor, a sore blink, he knows that even to have written this little is an excess, it is an overflowing, an excretion. Too many words. There are just too many words. Nobody wants them; nobody needs them. And still they keep on, keep on, keep on coming..
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Begin with source-checked readings and explanations ↗Attribution & collection notes
- Author or tradition
- Jo Baker
Attribution: attributed - Country attributed
- Not established
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- Historical period not yet established
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- Contributor-provided quotation collection
Supplied reference C; CSV row 225710; supplied attribution, independently unverified
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