All Bad Things Are Exaggerated In The

You Put Together Two People Who Have Not Been Put Together Before. Sometimes It Is Like That First Attempt To Harness A Hydrogen Balloon To A Fire Balloon: Do You Prefer Crash And Burn, Or Burn And Crash? But Sometimes It Works, And Something New Is Made, And The World Is Changed. Then, At Some Point, Sooner Or Later, For This Reason Or That, One Of Them Is Taken Away. And What Is Taken Away Is Greater Than The Sum Of What Was There. This May Not Be Mathematically Possible; But It Is Emotionally Possible.

I Know This Much: That There Is Objective Time, But Also Subjective Time, The Kind You Wear On The Inside Of Your Wrist, Next To Where The Pulse Lies. And This Personal Time, Which Is The True Time, Is Measured In Your Relationship To Memory.

Sometimes You Find The Panel, But It Doesn’t Open; Sometimes It Opens, And Your Gaze Meets Nothing But A Mouse Skeleton. But At Least You’ve Looked. That’s The Real Distinction Between People: Not Between Those Who Have Secrets And Those Who Don’t, But Between Those Who Want To Know Everything And Those Who Don’t. This Search Is A Sign Of Love I Maintain.

He Had A Better Mind And A More Rigorous Temperament Than Me; He Thought Logically, And Then Acted On The Conclusion Of Logical Thought. Whereas Most Of Us, I Suspect, Do The Opposite: We Make An Instinctive Decision, Then Build Up An Infrastructure Of Reasoning To Justify It. And Call The Result Common Sense.

In 1980, I Published My First Novel, In The Usual Swirl Of Unjustified Hope And Justified Anxiety.