I do have a sense of displacement as constant instability — the uninterrupted existence of everything that I love and care about is not guaranteed at all. I wait for catastrophes.

I loved you because there was no other place for me to go. We were married because we did not know what else to do with each other. You never knew me, nothing about me, what died inside me, what lived invisibly.

An unjust world represented as harmonious is a political position.

I'm a dilettante by temperament. I don't have any expectation.

I write and read with the assumption that literature contains knowledge of human experience that is not available otherwise.

Writing is a mode of agency in the world that is different from mere employment. There has to be some sort of ethical or moral drive, even if you are unaware of it.

Washington D.C.! Congress is full of self-declared outsiders.