I didn't want any middle-of-the-road creep. I always wanted the toughest guy in school, the guy from south Philly who wore tight black pants. Y'know, the guy who carried the umbrella and wore white shirts with real thin black ties. I was really nuts over this guy named Butchie Magic 'cause he let me carry his switchblade.

Where does it all lead? What will become of us? These were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. It leads to each other. We become ourselves.

Words are just rules and regulations to me.

I had gone to Paris to immerse myself in painting and I came back wholly involved in words and rhythms.

I think it's good for people to see the positive beauty that can flower from the deepest grieving.

I understood that in this small space of time we had mutually surrendered our loneliness and replaced it with trust.

I wanted to go to Portland because it's a really good book town.