When You're A Kid It's People's Cruelty

Poets Suffer Occasional Delusions Of Angelhood And Find Themselves Condemned To Express It In The Bric-a-brac Tongues Of The Human World. Lots Of Them Go Mad.

If Im Going To Invest The Time In A Novel, I Want Something More Than The Entertainment You Get Out Of Most Genre Fiction.

One Day The Ordinariness Will Be Terminally Punctuated By The Extraordinary Full Stop Of Death.

One Develops An Instinct For Letting Silence Do The Heavy Lifting. In The Three, Four, Five Seconds That Passed Without Either Of Us Speaking, The Many Ways The Conversation Could Go Came And Went Like Time-lapse Film Of Flowers Blooming And Dying.

Peace Is Purchased In The Currency Of Loss.