Having my way with Ulysses

What points of contact existed between these languages and between the peoples who spoke them?

All things are words of language that Someone or Something, night and day, writes in an infinite clamor which is the history of the world. In this confusion passes Carthage and Rome, I you, him. My life, which I do not understand, this agony of being chance cryptographic enigma and all the discord of Babel.

Intercourse, eyeball to eyeball.