Any assault on the borders of perception is going to seem rash at first.

Doesn't our knowledge of death make life more precious?' What good is a preciousness based on fear and anxiety? It's an anxious quivering thing

Technology and violence are interdependent.

These are the days after. Everything now is measured by after.

Writers, some of us, may tend to see things before other people do, things that are right there but aren't noticed in the way that a writer might notice.

Isn't death the boundary we need? Doesn't it give a precious texture to life, a sense of definition? You have to ask yourself whether anything you do in this life would have beauty and meaning without the knowledge you carry of a final line, a border or limit.

I am not comfortable with abstract writing, stories that look like essays: you have to see, I need to see.