The Words Emerge From Her Body Without

Words Don't Change Their Shape, They Change Their Meaning, Their Function...they Don't Have A Meaning Of Their Own Any More, They Refer To Other Words That You Don't Know, That You've Never Read Or Heard...you've Never Seen Their Shape, But You Feel...you Suspect...they Correspond To...an Empty Space Inside You...or In The Universe.

Oh, How Good It Is To Be With Someone, Sometimes.

I Seldom Read On Beaches Or In Gardens. You Can't Read By Two Lights At Once, The Light Of Day And The Light Of The Book. You Should Read By Electric Light, The Room In Shadow, And Only The Page Lit Up.

The Solitude Of Writing Is A Solitude Without Which Writing Could Not Be Produced, Or Would Crumble, Drained Bloodless By The Search For Something Else To Write.

A Writer Is A Foreign Country