To Think About Love And Passion And

It Didn't Occur To Me That My Books Would Be Widely Read At All, And That Enabled Me To Write Anything I Wanted To. And Even Once I Realized That They Were Being Read, I Still Wrote As If I Were Writing In Secret. That's How One Has To Write Anyway--in Secret.

By The Time I Was Done With The Car It Looked Worse Than Any Typical Indian Car That Has Been Driven All Its Life On Reservation Roads, Which They Always Say Are Like Government Promises - Full Of Holes.

I Spend Most Of My Time Writing.

Cold Sinks In, There To Stay. And People, They'll Leave You, Sure. There's No Return To What Was And No Way Back. There's Just Emptiness All Around, And You In It, Like Singing Up From The Bottom Of A Well, Like Nothing Else, Until You Harm Yourself, Until You Are A Mad Dog Biting Yourself For Sympathy. Because There Is No Relenting.

All Of Our Actions Have In Their Doing The Seed Of Their Undoing.