I Long For The Raised Voice, The

I Gave Up Writing Blurbs Because You Make One Friend And 200 Enemies.

When I Was 12 Years Old, Someone Took Me To See Martha Graham. It Was Nothing Like What I Thought Of As Serious Dancing And Even Then I Knew I Was Having A Great Experience. It Was As If Somebody Was Moving Through Space Like No One Ever Did Before.

Faulkner Turned Out To Be A Great Teacher. When A Student Asked A Question Ineptly, He Answered The Question With What The Student Had Really Wanted To Know.

Critics? How Do They Happen? I Know How It Happened To Me. I Would Send A Poem Or Story To A Magazine And They Would Say This Doesn't Suit Our Needs Precisely But On The Other Hand You Sound Interesting. Would You Be Interested In Doing A Review?

There Is A Place In Men's Lives Where Pictures Do In Fact Bleed, Ghosts Gibber And Shriek, Maidens Run Forever Through Mysterious Landscapes From Nameless Foes; That Place Is, Of Course, The World Of Dreams And Of The Repressed Guilts And Fears That Motivate Them [i.e., The Unconscious]. This World The Dogmatic Optimism And Shallow Psychology Of The Age Of Reason Had Denied; And Yet This World It Is The Final, Perhaps The Essential, Purpose Of The Gothic Romance To Assert.