It seems that it had been destined before that I should occupy myself so thoroughly with the vulture, for it comes to my mind as a very early memory, when I was still in the cradle, a vulture came down to me, he opened my mouth with his tail and struck me a few times with his tail against my lips.
There is no me. I do not exist. There used to be a me but I had it surgically removed.
Flattery is all right so long as you don't inhale.
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