You survive the way the world survives. You survive in me. Any me, of course, not this particular grieving animal who addresses you now, you would have put that in italics so I will, this grieving animal who speaks to you now. Am I trying to flatter you by writing like you, a little, not that I could really write like you, your gravitas, humor, skill, charm, rhythm, but I can certainly seem to be trying to — is that flattery, or mockery? No paragraphs, no quotations marks, no let up ’til the end, just like you know what. (…)

Who are we, Thomas, who are we really?

Robert Kelly: »Letter to Thomas Bernhard«, Cerise Press: A Journal of Literature, Arts & Culture 1 (2009), Nr. 1.