A Novelist Needs To Know His Own

She Has To Lose Her Pre-copernican View Of A Universe Revolving Around Herself.

Trees're Always A Relief, After People.

Words Are What You Fight With But What You Fight About Is Whether Or Not You're Afraid Of Them.

The Mind Abhors A Vacancy & Is Wont To People It With Phantoms.

I Understand Now That Boundaries Between Noise And Sound Are Conventions. All Boundaries Are Conventions, Waiting To Be Transcended. One May Transcend Any Convention If Only One Can First Conceive Of Doing So.