...the heart is an organ of fire.

I'm a Canadian citizen. But I always want to feel at home in Sri Lanka. I'm a member of both countries.

The last three books are much more a case of a moment of history, what happened almost by accident or coincidence, like being in the same elevator or lifeboat.

Nowadays he doesn't think of his wife, though he knows he can turn around and evoke every move of her, describe any aspect of her, the weigh of her wrist on his heart during the night.

Snap. Lady with dog. Lady on sofa half-naked. Snap. Naked lady. Lady next to dresser. Lady at window. Snap. Lady on balcony sunlight. (On New Orleans photographer E. J. Bellocq)

Over the years, confusing fragments, lost corners of stories, have a clearer meaning when seen in a new light, a different place.

Most of the time in our world, truth is just opinion.