No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words.

When inspiration is silent reason tires quickly.

Life is full of doors that don't open when you knock, equally spaced amid those that open when you don't want them to.

Occasionally, there arises a writing situation where you see an alternative to what you are doing, a mad, wild gamble of a way for handling something, which may leave you looking stupid, ridiculous or brilliant -you just don't know which. You can play it safe there, too, and proceed along the route you'd mapped out for yourself. Or you can trust your personal demon who delivered that crazy idea in the first place. Trust your demon.

Do you work for the government, any government?” "I pay taxes, which means I work for the government, part of the time. Yes.

Love is a negative form of hatred.

In the mirrors of the many judgments, my hands are the color of blood. I sometimes fancy myself an evil which exists to oppose other evils; and on that great Day of which the prophets speak but in which they do not truly believe, on the day the world is utterly cleansed of evil, then I too will go down into darkness, swallowing curses. Until then, I will not wash my hands nor let them hang useless.