954. "As far as your ideas and subject matter you chose for your paintings, about that I have nothing to say", Rose pronounced." You are like Magritte or even Salvatore Dali in that no one could guess where your ideas come from, but if you just keep on doing what you have been doing in time I expect you will make a name for yourself."
955. Coromo did not believe any of this. What did, 'make a name for yourself mean' he wondered, and who were Dali and Magritte, he had no idea. Nothing Rose said to him was able to dislodge his sneaking suspicion that it was all a nasty trick being played on him by a malevolent force bent on leading him to an unforeseen destruction, probably as a justified punishment for fooling around with that third sister he still could not stop thinking about all the time.
956. He may have been in his mid-twenties but in many respects he was just a child. His childishness expressed itself in many ways, one of which was his desire to paint pictures, but also in his simple idea of right and wrong, truth and false-hood. To put it simply, Coromo believed that there was such a thing as truth and falsehood, and these two things were obvious and available to anyone.
957. For example, let's say it is raining outside. The truth is that it is raining outside, everyone can agree on the truth of this statement. Irrespective of shadowy areas such as 'starting to rain', or ' was raining', the truth of a present downpour was simple, obvious and incontrovertible, not subject to dispute or discussion.