There’s a sense of being young and, all of a sudden, the opposite feeling, of not being young, and of having used up a series of people who loved me. One person makes a declaration of love and the other remains relaxed and gently affectionate about it, and at first it seems the person who made the declaration has lost somehow, but of course, on the contrary, they’ve won. They go on and marry somebody else while the one who was so relaxed remains in his passivity. I’m tired of being a man on the loose and of being childless.

Edward Hoagland

            “Notes from the Century Before”