Of course there is nothing that cannot be done incorrectly.

You don't believe in Nature anymore. It's too isolated from you. You've abstracted it. It's so messy and damaged and sad. Your eyes glaze as you travel life's highway past all the crushed animals and the Big Gulp cups.

I think the writer has to be responsible to signs and dreams. If you don't do anything with it, you lose it.

There is a certain type of conversation one hears only when one is drunk and it is like a dream, full of humor and threat and significance, deep significance.

The story knows itself better than the writer does at some point, knows what's being said before the writer figures out how to say it.

There is something unwholesome and destructive about the entire writing process.

A side benefit of the new and developing technologies is that soon we won't have to feel guilty about the suffering and denigration of the animals because we will have made them up.