...it Was Necessary To Love Silence, But

It Struck Me That Distant Cities Are Designed Precisely So You Can Know Where You Came From.

The Stars Looked Like Nail Heads In The Sky--pull A Few Of Them Out And The Darkness Would Fall.

The Essence Of Intelligence Was To Know When, Or If, To Expose Even The Heart's Deep Need For Instruction.

The Repeated Lies Become History, But They Don't Necessarily Become The Truth.

If You Have A Structure Beforehand, You're Sort Of Stuffing Your Story Into A Pre-assembled Box. You Don't Want That To Happen. What You Want In Your Writing Is To Have A Sort Of Wildness That Occurs. And Then, Out Of The Wildness, A Structure Emerges.