His name is Samson

His name is Samson. He has an incorruptibility. At lunch today, even though he was new, we found ourselves listening to him as he told us how our traditions would begin to be. I believe he could lead us, although for now he seems to only want to sit in the day room and do his work.

There is a German word

There is a German word for the feeling an English-speaking person has when she is in a group having a conversation at a very sophisticated or technical level and she, to cover her insecurity, tries to come up with a German word to sprinkle into her comments, but I couldn't remember it at lunch today, when everyone was arguing about Kant and Kierkegaard and Proust.

Later, in the deeply stupid hours of the night, it will come begging at my mind like a hungry dog, and I will feel all of the impotence a stranger feels when meeting such a dog, knowing that feeding it will only make it linger.

What is that word?
These rough children; these soiled gods. Would they even know what I meant?