Dinginess is death to a writer. Filth, discomfort, hunger, cold, trauma and drama, don't matter a bit.

“I love her.""Then you do not love the Lord.""Yes, I love both of them.""You can…”

“I was the place where you anchored. I was the deep water where you could be wei…”

“What art does is coax us away from the mechanical and towards the miraculous”

“There’s no story that’s the start of itself.”