A true war story is never moral.
And as a writer now, I want to save Linda's life. Not her body--her life.
With a hangover and with fear, it is difficult to put a helmet on your head.
All that peace, man, if felt so good it hurt. I want to hurt it back.
Each of us, I suppose needs his illusions. Life after death. A maker of planets. A woman to love, a man to hate. Something sacred. But what a waste.
It's very hard to articulate the things that are important about writing.