I see no reason not to write whatever comes to me.

This is suffering's lesson: pay attention. The important part might come in a form you do not recognize.

Look at me, dancing my little dance for a few moments against the background of eternity.

The only thing I've consistently been interested in in the last twenty-five years is writing very short texts. That continues to interest me as a project, to contain some part of reality, which is chaotic by definition, in a contained space. I like small apartments. I like getting rid of stuff. I went through my files yesterday and spent hours shredding things. It was great.

I like people who possess either deep mastery or deep empathy, but not as much as I like those who possess both.

Time punishes us by taking everything, but it also saves us - by taking everything

I see no reason not to write whatever comes to me.