Some people feed you with love.

Rome is a place almost worn out by being looked at, a city collapsing under the weight of reference.

The modern superstition is that we're free of superstition.

But there are times in life when a door opens and you are offered a glimpse of the light on the water, and you know that if you don't take it, that door slams shut, and maybe forever. Maybe you fool yourself into thinking that you had a choice at all; maybe you were always going to say yes. Maybe refusing was no more a choice than is holding your breath. You were always going to breathe. You were always going to say yes.

Perhaps writers should never be allowed to get together in a workplace context. It's not like studying computer science, after all. The emotions are at large, and are shared and are questioned. There is a vulnerability.

I have to get out once a week and speak with people or I start thinking I'm the emperor of Abyssinia.

Perhaps living souls had greater phantom powers than the dead.