I Have No Useful Theories About Love

Virginia Woolf's Great Novel, 'mrs. Dalloway,' Is The First Great Book I Ever Read. I Read It Almost By Accident When I Was In High School, When I Was 15 Years Old.

As Writers We Must, From Our Very Opening Sentence, Speak With Authority To Our Readers.

Take Me With You. I Want A Doomed Love. I Want Streets At Night, Wind And Rain, No One Wondering Where I Am.

Like The Morning You Walked Out Of That Old House, When You Were Eighteen And I Was, Well, I Had Just Turned Nineteen, Hadn't I? I Was A Nineteen-year-old And I Was In Love With Louis And I Was In Love With You, And I Thought I Had Never Seen Anything So Beautiful As The Sight Of You Walking Out A Glass Door In The Early Morning, Still Sleepy, In Your Underwear. Isn't It Strange?

I Encourage The Translators Of My Books To Take As Much License As They Feel That They Need. This Is Not Quite The Heroic Gesture It Might Seem, Because I've Learned, From Working With Translators Over The Years, That The Original Novel Is, In A Way, A Translation Itself.