Time At Length Becomes Justice.

I Wanted To Use What I Was, To Be What I Was Born To Be - Not To Have A 'career', But To Be That Straightforward Obvious Unmistakable Animal, A Writer.

We Are So Placid That The Smallest Tremor Of Objection Is Taken As A Full-scale Revolution.

I Measure My Life In Sentences Pressed Out, Line By Line, Like The Lustrous Ooze On The Underside Of The Snail, The Snail's Secret Open Seam, Its Wound, Leaking Attar.

Above All, A Book Is A Riverbank For The River Of Language. Language Without The Riverbank Is Only Television Talk - A Free Fall, A Loose Splash, A Spill.

He Who Cries, 'what Do I Care About Universality? I Only Know What Is In Me,' Does Not Know Even That.