When my daughter was young, she thought all electronic signs were mine.

I moved to New York in the 1970s and started writing when I was at the Whitney Museum Independent Study Program.

One of the glories and terrors of working in public is that you do see if your output means anything to anyone.

The desperate things seem to require attention, the lovely things seem to elicit celebration. If I had to choose, I would go to the awful in the hope that doing something could yield a happier result.

Turn soft and lovely anytime you have the chance.

Boredom makes you do crazy things

How do you resign yourself to something that will never be? You stop wanting just that thing. You go numb. Or you kill the agent of desire.