I remember Saturday night baths and Sunday morning comics.
It seems like I Remember would make a great Twitter feed, but unlike something Moby-Dick, I think the sentences lose some of their power out of context. There’s a propulsive force to the book that runs on repetition and accumulation: little mundane bits and pieces adding up to something sublime.
(The book is reproduced in full in this lovely Library of Congress edition of his collected writings.)
Here’s the first page: