As before, there is a great silence, with no end in sight. The writer surrenders, listening.
I write line by line, by the sound and the weight and the music of the words.
Towns change; they grow or diminish, but hometowns remain as we left them.
Literature can teach us how to live before we live, and how to die before we die. I believe that writing is practice for death, and for every (other) transformation human beings encounter.
Love is the outlaw's duty.
The writing life is a secret life, wither we admit it or not.