I Think Young Children In

If You Try To Control It Too Much, The Book Is Dead. You Have To Let It Fall Apart Quite Early On And Let It Start Doing Its Own Thing. And That Takes Nerve, Not To Panic That The Book You Were Going To Write Is Not The Book You Will Have At The End Of The Day.

It Is Very Hard To Trace The Effect Of Words On A Life.

Here We Go Again. Always A Few Drinks, But Sometimes Even Sober, We Play The Unhappiness Game; Endlessly Round And Round. Ding Dong. Tighter And Tighter. On And On. Push Me Pull You. Come Here And I'll Tell You How Much I Hate You. Hang On A Minute While I Leave You. All The While We Know We Are Missing The Point, Whatever The Point Used To Be.

Only Bad Writers Think That Their Work Is Really Good.

I Am Interested In Silences