I Hated The Words. Each One Was

The First Horror Is There's Horror. The Second Is You Accommodate It.

Snow Makes Cities Innocent Again, Reveals The Frailty Of The Human Gesture Against The Void.

I'm With Milton And The Rolling Stones: I Don't Find The Devil An Unsympathetic Character. But In Any Case, My Fiction Is Populated As Much By People Who Do Good As It Is By Those Who Do Bad. I'm Interested In Imaginatively Accommodating As Much Of The Human As Possible, For Which You Need Both Moral Extremes And Everything In Between.

Poets Suffer Occasional Delusions Of Angelhood And Find Themselves Condemned To Express It In The Bric-a-brac Tongues Of The Human World. Lots Of Them Go Mad.

Kneecaps Only Exist To Get Hit With Claw-hammers; Grace Only Exists To Be Fallen From.