The Breaking Of A Wave Cannot Explain

You See, She Had Absolutely Nowhere Else To Go.

A Thousand Years Ago Five Minutes Were Equal To Forty Ounces Of Fine Sand. Outstare The Stars. Infinite Foretime And Infinite Aftertime: Above Your Head They Close Like Giant Wings, And You Are Dead.

At A Very Early Stage Of The Novel's Development I Get This Urge To Collect Bits Of Straw And Fluff, And To Eat Pebbles. Nobody Will Ever Discover How Clearly A Bird Visualizes, Or If It Visualizes At All, The Future Nest And The Eggs In It.

I Think It Is All A Matter Of Love: The More You Love A Memory, The Stronger And Stranger It Is.

...all My Best Words Are Deserters And Do Not Answer The Trumpet Call, And The Remainder Are Cripples.