A Hope Fulfilled Is Already Half A

I Have A Good Memory For Words, And When I Come Upon A Word I Don't Know, I Remember It, Or Try To - It's Almost Like A Tic.

He Comes To This Other World And He Has To Reinvent Himself. Again, It Felt Natural, Even Though I'd Been Working Really Hard Trying To Come Up With Something.

His Dreams Had Always Been Houdiniesque: They Were The Dreams Of A Pupa Struggling In Its Blind Cocoon, Mad For A Taste Of Light And Air.

The Midnight Disease Is A Kind Of Emotional Insomnia; At Ever Conscious Moment Its Victim—even If He Or She Writes At Dawn, Or In The Middle Of The Afternoon—feels Like A Person Lying In A Sweltering Bedroom, With The Window Thrown Open, Looking Up At A Sky Filled With Stars And Airplanes, Listening To The Narrative Of A Rattling Blind, An Ambulance, A Fly Trapped In A Coke Bottle, While All Around Him The Neighbours Soundly Sleep.

A Father Is A Man Who Fails Every Day.