I relinquished myself to existence pure and simple, thinking absolutely nothing—as if my mind were merely an echo chamber for the music, as if it contained only ether or at most a vaguely pleasant odor as of roses preserved between the pages of a book, their significance long forgotten. The tongue of the road gobbled me up and I allowed myself to sink like a tasty mouthful all the way to the bottom of a marvelous, rejuvenating vacuity. Later, it would occur to me it’s the emptiness we mistakenly call Innocence.
Sol Luckman, Beginner's Luke
being, being-and-nothingness, book, emptiness, forgetting, innocence, memory, music, nothingness, past, road, road-novel, roses, travel, vacuity, youth