Salt And The Center Of

Come Sleep With Me: We Won't Make Love,love Will Make Us.

I Raised The Camera, Pretended To Study A Focus Which Did Not Include Them, And Waited And Watched Closely, Sure That I Would Finally Catch The Revealing Expression, One That Would Sum It All Up, Life That Is Rhythmed By Movement But Which A Stiff Image Destroys, Taking Time In Cross Section, If We Do Not Choose The Essential Imperceptible Fraction Of It.

Skill Alone Cannot Teach Or Produce A Great Short Story, Which Condenses The Obsession Of The Creature; It Is A Hallucinatory Presence Manifest From The First Sentence To Fascinate The Reader, To Make Him Lose Contact With The Dull Reality That Surrounds Him, Submerging Him In Another That Is More Intense And Compelling.

I Think We All Have A Little Bit Of That Beautiful Madness That Keeps Us Walking When Everything Around Us Is So Insanely Sane.

Before Going Back To Sleep I Imagined (i Saw) A Plastic Universe, Changeable, Full Of Wondrous Chance, An Elastic Sky, A Sun That Suddenly Is Missing Or Remains Fixed Or Changes Its Shape.