Time is a corporate asset now. It belongs to the free market system. The present is harder to find... The future becomes insistent.

Too much has been forgotten in the name of memory.

At night the sky was very near, sprawled in star smoke and gamma cataclysms, but she didn't see it the way she used to, as soul extension, dumb guttural wonder, a thing that lived outside language in the oldest part of her.

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

I am ashamed every day, and more ashamed the next. But I will spend the rest of my life in this living space writing these notes, this journal, recording my acts and reflections, finding some honor, some worth at the bottom of things. I want ten thousand pages that will stop the world.

I think if you maintain a force in the world that comes into people's sleep, you are exercising a meaningful power.

I've always felt that my subject was living in dangerous times.