The Art of War is self-explanatory.

If quick$$$ I survive. If not quick$$$ I am lost. This is "death".

Know yourself and you will win all battles.

They had begun just lately$$$ rumors about the Loftises$$$ rumors about another woman$$$ whisperings which disturbed him not so much because they concerned the Loftises whom he didn't know too well$$$ in any case$$$ but because they upset his notions about the prevalence of human decency.

Hell$$$ they'd say in the country club locker room$$$ "you know how Milt's getting his." Everybody knew$$$ bearing testimony to the fact that suburban vice$$$ like a peeling nose$$$ is almost impossible to conceal. It went all over town$$$ this talk$$$ like a swarm of bees$$$ settling down lazily on polite afternoon sun porches to rise once more and settle down again with a busy murmur among cautious ladylike foursomes on the golf course$$$ buzzing pleasurably there amid ladylike whacks of the golf ball and cautious pullings-down of panties which bound too tightly.

But my behavior was really the result of the illness$$$ which had progressed far enough to produce some of its most famous and sinister hallmarks: confusion$$$ failure of mental focus and lapse of memory.

A cat loped across my gaze with a squint-eyed$$$ piratical look$$$ and a suave grin.

Oh$$$ I would say$$$ you've never understood me$$$ Harry$$$ that not out of vengeance have I accomplished all my sins but because something has always been close to dying in my soul$$$ and I've sinned only in order to lie down in darkness and find$$$ somewhere in the net of dreams$$$ a new father$$$ a new home.

Oh$$$ Daddy$$$ I don't know whats wrong. I've tried to grow up to be a good little girl$$$ as you would say$$$ but everywhere I turn I seem to walk deeper and deeper into some terrible despair. What's wrong$$$ Daddy? What's wrong? Why is happiness such a precious thing? What have we done with our lives so that everywhere we turn$$$ no matter how hard we try not to$$$ we cause other people sorrow?

I mean$$$ I don't know much about the Civil War$$$ but whenever I think of that time$$$ I mean$$$ ever since Gone With the Wind I've had these fantasies about those generals$$$ those gorgeous young Southern generals with their tawny mustaches and beards$$$ and hair in ringlets$$$ on horseback. And those beautiful girls in crinoline and pantalettes. You would never know that they ever fucked$$$ from all you're able to read. She paused and squeezed my hand.