To me, the moment you're talking about nonfiction you're talking about reality.

Thomas Jefferson went through the New Testament and removed all the miracles, leaving only the teachings. Take a source, extract what appeals to you, discard the rest. Such an act of editorship is bound to reflect something of the individual doing the editing: a plaster cast of an aesthetic-not the actual thing, but the imprint of it.

The beauty of reality-based art - art underwritten by reality hunger - is that it's perfectly situated between life itself and (unattainable) "life as art".

You're one of 6.5 billion people now on the planet, and 99.9 percent of your genes are the same as everyone else's.

I don’t know what’s the matter with me, why I’m so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.

Anything processed by memory is fiction.

To me, the moment you're talking about nonfiction you're talking about reality.