From COUNTING MY STEPS by Jakov Lind

"The world is a maze of bookshops and libraries, editorial offices and universities, studios and stages, stuffed with literature and culture like a rhinoceros with formaldehyde. There is so much good intention in the world, so much belief in reason, friendship, and peace, so much moral outcry, so much printed agony and sheer horror, the best I can do is lock myself in my own mirror of events and see if there is anything left to chew."

and a bit later,

"The attic of my nineteenth-century soul is stuffed with weird obsessions. Future, past, hope, justice, Socialism to name but a few. The things in my attic were once Everything. And Everything has its place, a few places in fact."

And I am only mildly disappointed to say, but the majority of Lind's first autobiography isn't experimental nonsense or absurd perversion. It is autobiography, straight-forward and observant.

Title for a prospective novel: Formaldehyde Park