Scene: Sparsely Furnished Know LedgeV. Woolf:
in Any Euro-American City
Had I been born, said Bernard, not knowing that one word follows another I might have been, who knows, perhaps anything. As it is, finding sequences every where, I cannot bear the pressure of solitude. When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke around me I am in darkness—I am nothing.
When I am not working I sometimes think I know something. When I am working I discover that I know nothing at all.
To know, if our knowledge is not to kill us or others, is itself the urgent necessity to unknow, to move on to the next ledge.