I said I was innocent. Well I was not. Innocent. My god the names we use. What do we live with that's alive we haven't tamed--people like me?--even our houseplants breathe by our permission. All along I had the fear of what it was--something ugly and poisonous, deadly and terrible--the simple insect, worse and wilder than fire--and I should rather put my arms in the heart of a flame than in the darkness of a moist and webby hole. But the eye never ceases to change. When I examine my collection now it isn't any longer roaches I observe but gracious order, wholeness, and divinity...