I Have The Sense That

Memory, So Complete And Clear Or So Evasive, Has To Be Ended, Has To Be Put Aside, As If One Were Leaving A Chapel And Bringing The Prayer To An End In One's Head.

The Disparity Between What People Said Life Was And What I Knew It To Be Unnerved Me At Times, But I Swore That Nothing Would Ever Make Me Say Life Should Be Anything.

I'm Sixty-two, And It's Ecological Sense To Die While You're Still Productive, Die And Clear A Space For Others, Old And Young.

My Protagonists Are My Mother's Voice And The Mind I Had When I Was Thirteen.

Almost The First Thing I Did When I Became Ill Was To Buy A Truly Good Television Set.