And So The Ordinary Unendurable Torments We

We Dress Them [children] In The Presumptions Of The World. They Are The Bright Small Face Of Hope. They Are The Last Belief We Have, The Belief In Making Them Believe.

Whenever Citizens Are Seen Routinely As Enemies Of Their Own Government, Writers Are Rountinely Seen To Be The Most Dangerous Enemies.

Writers Are Not Just People Who Sit Down And Write. They Hazard Themselves. Every Time You Compose A Book Your Composition Of Yourself Is At Stake.

And So Do People Pass Out Of One's Life And All You Can Remember Of Them Is Their Humanity, A Poor Fitful Thing Of No Dominion, Like Your Own.

Writing A Novel Is Like Driving A Car At Night. Sometimes You Run Over A Drunk Who's Lain Down And Fallen Asleep On The Warm Pavement. I Mean, Do You Keep Going, Or What?