It Felt Like Being A Child Again,

Remember The Movements That Don't Look Like Moving.

London Is An Endless Skirmish Between Angles And Emptiness.

I Think There's Something Quite Interesting About The Almost Tragic Quality Of A Lot Of Overwrought Prose, Because It Has A Much More Self-conscious Awareness Of Its Own Failure To Touch The Real.

The Problem With Most Genre Fantasy Is That It's Not Nearly Fantastic Enough. It's Escapist, But It Can't Escape.

It Felt Like Being A Child Again, Though It Was Not. Being A Child Is Like Nothing. It's Only Being. Later, When We Think About It, We Make It Into Youth.