Donald Barthelme Quote

Clean your face, I said to the child. It's dirty. It's not, the child said. By God it is, I said, filth adheres in ine areas which I shall enumerate. That is because of the dough, the child said. We were taking death masks. Dough! I exclaimed, shocked at the idea that the child had wasted flour and water and no doubt paper too in this lightsome pastime, taking death masks. Death! I exclaimed for added emphasis. What do you know of death? It is the end of the world, the child said, for the death-visited individual. The world ends, the child said, when you turn out your eyes. This was true, I could not dispute it. I returned to the main point. Your father is telling you to wash your face, I said, locating myself in the abstract where I was more comfortable.