The Past Is A Closed Door.

I Knew What Love Was Supposed To Be: Obsession With Undertones Of Nausea.

I'm Working On My Own Life Story. I Don't Mean I'm Putting It Together; No, I'm Taking It Apart. If You'd Wanted The Narrative Line You Should Have Asked Earlier, When I Still Knew Everything And Was More Than Willing To Tell. That Was Before I Discovered The Virtues Of Scissors, The Virtues Of Matches.

We Lived In The Gaps Between The Stories

Americans Don't Usually Have To Think About Canadian-american Relations, Or, As They Would Put It, American-canadian Relations. Why Think About Something Which You Believe Affects You So Little? We, On The Other Hand, Have To Think About You Whether We Like It Or Not.

I Could End This With A Moral, As If This Were A Fable About Animals, Though No Fables Are Really About Animals.