The Point Of Flight. To Get Rid

Every Man With His Own Peculiar Vice. His Will Hardly Rock Heaven Or Hell.

She Takes Another Long Haul, Lets The Smoke Settle In Her Lungs-- She Has Heard Somewhere That Cigarettes Are Good For Grief. One Long Drag And You Forget How To Cry. The Body Too Busy Dealing With The Poison.

I'm Only Telling You On The Truth," He Said. "if You Can't Stand The Truth, Don't Ask For It.

If You Sort Of See Yourself Writing Into A Space That You Don't Always Recognize, You Sometimes Learn Things That You Knew, But Weren't Entirely Aware Of. It's Very Liberating For A Writer To Go Into A Space Where She Or He Has Not Gone Before, Because, Instead Of Being A Tourist, You're Like An Explorer Now, And You're Sort Of Lost In This New Idea.

...it Was Necessary To Love Silence, But Before You Could Love Silence You Had To Have Noise.