There are times when you want to stop working at faith and just be washed in a blowing wind that tells you everything.

...Because what's the meaning of doing dishes if you're not driven by something beyond necessity.

It was the time of year, the time of day, for a small insistent sadness to pass into the texture of things. Dusk, silence, iron chill. Something lonely in the bone.

I think my work is influenced by the fact that we're living in dangerous times. If I could put it in a sentence, in fact, my work is about just that: living in dangerous times.

The true life is not reducible to words spoken or written, not by anyone, ever.

Fear is unnatural. Lightning and thunder are unnatural. Pain, death, reality, these are all unnatural. We can't bear these things as they are. We know too much. So we resort to repression, compromise and disguise. This is how we survive the universe. This is the natural language of the species.

We need time to lose interest in things.