We passed over in a sweep of sorrow that would persist into our small forever. We just keep going.

So many things in the world have happened before. But it's like they never did. Every new thing that happens to a person, it's a first... In that night I felt expansion, as if the world was branching out in shoots and growing faster than the eye could see. I felt smallness, how the earth divided into bits and kept dividing. I felt stars.

I prefer to have some beliefs that don't make logical sense.

What is this life but the sound of an appalling love.

To think about love and passion and political correctness all together, it doesn't work. Art has to go way past the political to be effective.

I work really out of mythology, so often I work out of a story that has remained lodged inside somehow, or I work out of history, you know, out of a sense of historical inevitability with characters.

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness.