Thinking about spaghetti that boils eternally but is never done is a sad, sad thing.

When you are used to the kind of life -of never getting anything you want- you stop knowing what it is you want.

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

Reality's just the accumulation of ominous prophecies come to life. All you have to do is open a newspaper on any given day to weigh the good news versus the bad news, and you'll see what I mean.

There are many things we only see clearly in retrospect.

The facts and techniques or whatever they teach you in class isn't going to be veryuseful in the real world, that's for sure.

And as the years have passed, the time has grown longer. The sad truth is that what I could recall in five seconds all too needed ten, then thirty, then a full minute - like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the shadows will be swallowed up in darkness.