My Life Was Incoherent To Me. I

To Be Human Is To Be In A Story.

Literature Is The Province Of Imagination, And Stories, In Whatever Guise, Are Meditations On Life.

My Life Was Incoherent To Me. I Felt It Quivering, Spitting Out Broken Teeth.

I Have A Painter's Memory. I Can Remember Things From My Childhood Which Were So Powerfully Imprinted On Me, The Whole Scene Comes Back.

Freedom Is A Public Library.