"And Joyce said unto them, “Does this Ovid you? The
Wordsworth that I speak is Stevens. Have I not chosen
Twain, and one of you is a Dickens? The world Horace
me, because I Tolstoy, and the works thereof are
Ellison. If any Mailer thirst, come unto me, and
drink. Whoso Breton in me, out of their Beckett shall
flow Rabelais of living Williams. For I am the
Lucretius of the world.”
~ Benjamito Péretz
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