Who am I to refuse the Universe?

F. once said: “At sixteen I stopped fucking faces.” I had occasioned the remark by expressing disgust at his latest conquest, a young hunchback he had met while touring an orphanage. F. spoke to me that day as if I were truly one of the underprivileged; or perhaps he was not speaking to me at all when he muttered: “Who am I to refuse the Universe?”

Leonard Cohen:  Beautiful Losers

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