Her lips were like large crimson polyps.

And I want to rise up, throw my arms open for a vast embrace, address an ample, luminous discourse to the invisible crowds. I would start like this: "O rainbow-colored gods. . .

It is a singular reaction, this sitting still and writing, writing, writing, or ruminating at length, which is much the same, really.

Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.

My characters are galley slaves.

Coordinating there Events and objects with remote events And vanished objects. Making ornaments Of accidents and possibilities.

Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.