March 28, 2024
I am the twentieth century. I am the ragtime and the tango; sans-serif, clean
geometry. I am the virgin's-hair whip and the cunningly detailed shackles of decadent passion. I
am every lonely railway station in every capital of Europe. I am the Street, the fanciless
buildings of government. the cafe-dansant, the clockwork figure, the jazz saxophone, the
tourist-lady's hairpiece, the fairy's rubber breasts, the travelling clock which always tells
the wrong time and chimes in different keys. I am the dead palm tree, the Negro's dancing pumps,
the dried fountain after tourist season. I am all the appurtenances of night.
― Thomas Pynchon