We Live In An Age Of Rapid

Some People Fake Their Death, I'm Faking My Life.

Stories Are Consoling, Fiction Is One Of The Consolation Prizes For Having Lived In The World.

Isn't Death The Boundary We Need? Doesn't It Give A Precious Texture To Life, A Sense Of Definition? You Have To Ask Yourself Whether Anything You Do In This Life Would Have Beauty And Meaning Without The Knowledge You Carry Of A Final Line, A Border Or Limit.

When I Work I Have A Sculptor's Sense Of The Shape Of The Words I'm Making. I Use A Machine With Larger Than Average Letters: The Bigger The Better.

Out Of Some Persistent Sense Of Large-scale Ruin, We Kept Inventing Hope.