Writing about writing is a bit like talking about a conversation you are having; it tends to obscure desperation about where the next word is coming from.

the time for prizes and competitions at art festivals is over. Competition is too closely tied to values that are alien to the arts.

In the strange heat all litigation brings to bear on things, the very process of litigation fosters the most profound misunderstandings in the world.

I think maybe writers come from different planets. I mean, not in any sense as extravagant as Baryshnikov. But there are some writers who understand each other this way and others who understand each other that way. Then there's this great herd, the "herd of independent minds."

My capacity for having a good time exists. It surfaces, however, on odd occasions.

Moral self-infatuation has its own corruptions, after all. With time, almost every other principle of the magazine acquired an ironic echo, a sort of cackling aftermath.

Writing about writing is a bit like talking about a conversation you are having; it tends to obscure desperation about where the next word is coming from.