She always attempted to be orderly, to catalogue her thoughts and feelings, so that when the awful, anarchic inner voice caught her out, her mind was stocked with efficacious replies. “What am I doing here?” could be answered with lists. She had another stock of replies to “Who the hell do you think you are, attempting to be alive?” She justified herself by saying that she was of service, that she ordered fragments of other lives.
-Marian Engel
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