Grief Reconfigures Time, Its Length, Its Texture,

Well, To Be Honest I Think I Tell Less Truth When I Write Journalism Than When I Write Fiction.

When I Was Still Quite Young I Had A Complete Presentiment Of Life. It Was Like The Nauseating Smell Of Cooking Escaping From A Ventilator: You Don't Have To Have Eaten It To Know That It Would Make You Throw Up.

We Thought We Were Being Mature When We Were Only Being Safe. We Imagined We Were Being Responsible But Were Only Being Cowardly. What We Called Realism Turned Out To Be A Way Of Avoiding Things Rather Than Facing Them.

Remember The Botched Brothel-visit In L’education Sentimentale And Remember Its Lesson. Do Not Participate: Happiness Lies In The Imagination, Not The Act. Pleasure Is Found First In Anticipation, Later In Memory.

I'm A Novelist, So I Can't Write About Ideas Unless They're Attached To People.