It occurred to me that eating is the only form of professionalism most people ever attain.

There is a world inside the world.

I marched and I protested against the war in Vietnam, along with many, many thousands of others. But I never quite understood the bombs that were placed in science labs or office buildings.

The question of dying becomes a wise reminder. It cures us of our innocence of the future.

why something and not nothing? why music and not noise?

A photograph is a universe of dots. The grain, the halide, the little silver things clumped in the emulsion. Once you get inside a dot, you gain access to hidden information, you slide into the smallest event. This is what technology does. It peels back the shadows and redeems the dazed and rumbling past. It makes reality come true.

Mirrors and images. Or sex and love. These are two separate systems that we miserably try to link.