Then I Fell In Love And Everything

I Had Known Loneliness Before, And Emptiness Upon The Moor, But I Had Never Been A Nothing, A Nothing Floating On A Nothing, Known By Nothing, Lonelier And Colder Than The Space Between The Stars. It Was More Frightening Than Being Dead.

I'm Interested In Where We Are, Where We're Going, Where We've Come From.

(from The Story The Last Days Of A Famous Mime) He Said Nothing. He Was Mildly Annoyed At Her Presumption: That He Had Not Thought This Many, Many Times Before. With Perfect Misunderstanding She Interpreted His Passivity As Disdain. Wishing To Hurt Him, She Slapped His Face. Wishing To Hurt Her, He Smiled Brilliantly.

I Never Base Characters On Real People. There Are People Who Do That But I Really Don't Know How To Do It.

At The Very End Of A Book I Can Manage To Work For Longer Stretches, But Mostly, Making Stuff Up For Three Hours, That's Enough. I Can't Do Any More. At The End Of The Day I Might Tinker With My Morning's Work And Maybe Write Some Again. But I Think Three Hours Is Fine.