By The Tits Of Holy Agnes

Imagination Only Comes When You Privilege The Subconscious, When You Make Delay And Procrastination Work For You.

Over The City Lies The Sweet, Rotting Odor Of Yesterday's Unrecollected Sins.

Fear Of Commitment Lies Behind The Fear Of Writing.

Like A Historian, I Interpret, Select, Discard, Shape, Simplify. Unlike A Historian, I Make Up People's Thoughts.

Fiction Leaves Us So Much Work To Do, Allows The Individual So Much Input; You Have To See, You Have To Hear, You Have To Taste The Madeleine, And While You Are Seemingly Passive In Your Chair, You Have To Travel.