The mouth is a weird place. Not quite inside and not quite out, not skin and not organ, but something in between: dark, wet, admitting access to an interior most people would rather not contemplate – where cancer starts, where the heart is broken, where the soul might just fail to turn up.
To Rise Again At A Decent Hour, Joshua Ferris
I have, for as long as I can remember, had a violent, pathological aversion to eating noises. To mouth noises. It’s a condition. Being a dentist is some kind of vision of hell. It’s possible that I will detest this book, but I can’t resist it. I might need you to hold my hand.