He Died Alone Because He Was Too

There Are Moments When A Kind Of Clarity Comes Over You, And Suddenly You Can See Through Walls To Another Dimension That You'd Forgotten Or Chosen To Ignore In Order To Continue Living With The Various Illusions That Make Life, Particularily Life With Other People, Possible.

...after All, Who Isn't A Survivor From The Wreck Of Childhood?

What Interests Me In Writing A Novel Is Taking Really Remote Voices, Characters, And Stories And Beginning To Create Some Kind Of Web.

He Learned To Live With The Truth. Not To Accept It, But To Live With It. It Was Like Living With An Elephant. His Room Was Tiny, And Every Morning He Had To Squeeze Around The Truth Just To Get To The Bathroom. To Reach The Armoire To Get A Pair Of Underpants He Had To Crawl Under The Truth, Praying It Wouldn't Choose That Moment To Sit On His Face. At Night, When He Closed His Eyes, He Felt It Looming Above Him.

I Was Never A Man Of Great Ambition I Cried Too Easily I Didn't Have A Head For Science Words Often Failed Me While Others Prayed I Only Moved My Lips