To live in prison is to live without mirrors. To live without mirrors is to live without the self. She is living selflessly, she finds a hole in the stone wall and on the other side of the wall, a voice. The voice comes through darkness and has no face. This voice becomes her mirror.

And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional.

Every utopia - let's just stick with the literary ones - faces the same problem: What do you do with the people who don't fit in?

I was warped early by Ray Bradbury and Edgar Allan Poe. I was very fond of Franz Kafka.

There is no fool like an educated fool.

The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish drying on sand.

I didn't want him to become gray and multi-dimensional and complicated like everyone else. Was every Heathcliff a Linton in disguise?