That was one of the problems with the Narcissus figure. Here is a face looking at a face, and the problem is the image of the thing is never actually the thing. You try and grab it and it's not there. It's water. It disappears.

Early in the phase of being in a female body, there's all this desire that comes at you, a lot of it hostile, a lot of it dangerous, a lot of it ruinous.

You can sometimes find something good on the other side of doing something very, very painful.

The state of love is this constant flux back and forth between who's saving and who's rescuing, who's wanting and not wanting, who's needing and who isn't. It's always going back and forth between two people who are actually attached.

Like a lot of writers, I just got sick to death of conventional fiction. I absolutely couldn't stand the illusion of reality and plot. I just couldn't stomach it.

You have to want something or you're finished.

That's what perfect means. You're finished.