A Short Piece Of Work Means As

There Is A Movement To Get An International Criminal Court In The World, Voted For By Hundreds Of States-but With The Noticeable Absence Of The United States Of America.

I Know The Place. It Is True. Everything We Do Corrects The Space Between Death And Me And You.

Language In Art Remains A Highly Ambiguous Transaction, A Quicksand, A Trampoline, A Frozen Pool Which Might Give Way Under You ... At Any Time.

I Think We Communicate Only Too Well, In Our Silence, In What Is Unsaid, And That What Takes Place Is A Continual Evasion, Desperate Rearguard Attempts To Keep Ourselves To Ourselves. Communication Is Too Alarming. To Enter Into Someone Else's Life Is Too Frightening. To Disclose To Others The Poverty Within Us Is Too Fearsome A Possibility.

Sometimes You Feel You Have The Truth Of A Moment In Your Hand, Then It Slips Through Your Fingers And Is Lost.