We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming.

I'm not reclusive at all. Just private.

The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a presence. Is there a level of energy composed solely of the dead? They are also in the ground, of course, asleep and crumbling. Perhaps we are what they dream.

I don’t want your candor. I want your soul in a silver thimble.

I felt myself getting whiter... What does it mean to become white? How does it feel to see Death in the flesh, come to gather you in?

Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.

Once you've seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn.