Communication is mutual feeling with someone, not a didactic process of information.

Moon, moon, when you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch. But I love you. Do you love me. What to say when you see me.

Communication is mutual feeling with someone, not a didactic process of information.

What has happened makes the world. Live on the edge, looking.

I don’t think any man writing can worry about what the act of writing costs him, even though at times he is very aware of it.

No matter how wild reality was obviously often being, it was an absolutely secure place, as a tone and intelligence, and a thing happening.

Hopefully, I write what I don't know.