Love Is Blind; But It Makes You

Your Heart Becomes Gangrenous In Your Body When You Go Against Your Talent.

Time, The Human Dimension, Which Makes Us Everything We Are.

Fiction Is The Only Way To Redeem The Formlessness Of Life

It's Hard To Make Progress With Grief.

Seeing The World Anew, As If It Were New, Is As Old As Writing. It's What All Painters Are Trying To Do, To See What's There, To See It In A Way That Renews It. It Becomes More And More Urgent As The Planet Gets Worn Flat And Forest After Forest Is Slain To Print The Paper For People's Impressions To Be Scrawled Down On. It Becomes Harder And Harder To Be Original, To See Things With An Innocent Eye. Innocence Is Much Tied Up With It. As The Planet Gets Progressively Less Innocent, You Need A More Innocent Eye To See It.