I Believe So Deeply In The Primacy

He Wanted To Ask Her What Sound A Heart Made When It Broke From Pleasure, When Just The Sight Of Someone Filled You The Way Food, Blood, And Air Never Could, When You Felt As If You'd Been Born For Only One Moment And This, For Whatever Reason, Was It.

Narrative Becomes The Way You Make Sense Of Chaos. That's How You Focus The World. It's The Only Reason You Should Ever Try This Writing Job.

It's Good Not Only To Realize That You Can't Please All Of The People All Of The Time, But That You Don't Want To. There's A Certain Type Of Reader That You Don't Ever Want To Write For.

I Held Her, He Wanted To Say, And If I Knew For Certain That All It Would Take To Hold Her Again Would Be To Die, Then I Couldn't Raise The Gun To My Head Fast Enough.

We Were Supposed To Grow Old Together, Dolores. Have Kids. Take Walks Under Old Trees. I Wanted To Watch The Lines Etch Themselves Into Your Flesh And Know When Each And Every One Of Them Appeared. Die Together.