Most People Are Quiet In The World,

When You're Working Well, You Don't Do Research. Whatever You Need Comes To You.

Dad Is Always Hiding In His Book.

A Novel Is A Printed Circuit Through Which Flows The Force Of A Reader's Own Life.

You Can't Remember Sex. You Can Remember The Fact Of It, And Recall The Setting, And Even The Details, But The Sex Of The Sex Cannot Be Remembered, The Substantive Truth Of It, It Is By Nature Self-erasing, You Can Remember Its Anatomy And Be Left With A Judgment As To The Degree Of Your Liking Of It, But Whatever It Is As A Splurge Of Being, As A Loss, As A Charge Of The Conviction Of Love Stopping Your Heart Like Your Execution, There Is No Memory Of It In The Brain, Only The Deduction That It Happened And That Time Passed, Leaving You With A Silhouette That You Want To Fill In Again.

My Memories Pale As I Prevail Upon Them Again And Again. They Become More And More Ghostly. I Fear Nothing So Much As Losing Them Altogether And Having Only My Blank Endless Mind To Live In.