When I’ve finished writing this sentence, this sentence I’m writing now, I shall close this Collins notebook for the last time and throw it, along with its companion volume, if possible with a degree of nonchalance and urbanity, into the far corner of this room, where I’ll leave them to rot or perhaps, you never know – and I truly don’t care – to one day rise up, well up – even spew forth – on the tide of universal testimony.
And at the end, the very end, is the Word.