The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
What did he understand? Nothing. Where was he headed? Nowhere. What did he want? To know. What? A meaning. Why? A riddle.
Broken pictures lay like a scattered jigsaw puzzle in his head. (2.8.92-93)
That was the way he was. Everything was either very right or very wrong – with no middle way. (2.9.52)
The emptiness in him hurt. He wanted to look neither backward nor forward. [...] Nothing had happened except that he had made a friend and had lost him. (3.2.53)