I said: Baby, I wish that I could stop. You know that, don’t you?
She said: If you wanted to stop, you would.
I said: But I do want to, is the thing.
She said: Do you know what words are? Words are farts. Think of what a fart is, what it achieves. That’s exactly what a word is.
I don’t know when this was written. It was a long, long time ago. I found it as part of some notes I’d made about a short story. Comparing words to farts seems profound in some way. Or unbelievably stupid. (Sidenote: I don’t name these things, but a good name for this one might be “He said, She said.” Either that or “The Gospel of Flatulence.”)