I Write The Way You Might Arrange

The Job Of Taste Was To Thin The Insane Torrent Of Human Creativity Down To Manageable Levels. But The Job Of Appetite Was Never To Be Happy With Taste.

I Write The Way You Might Arrange Flowers. Not Every Try Works, But Each One Launches Another. Every Constraint, Even Dullness, Frees Up A New Design.

My Goal For Technology Has Always Been To Reach A Point Where The Technological Mediation Becomes Invisible.

In 25 Years Of Writing Novels, I've Never Had Anything That Felt Like Writer's Block.

Music Forecasts The Past, Recalls The Future. Now And Then The Difference Falls Away, And In One Simple Gift Of Circling Sound, The Ear Solves The Scrambled Cryptogram. One Abiding Rhythm, Present And Always, And You're Free. But A Few Measures More, And The Cloak Of Time Closes Back Around You.