Everything Was Fabulous, Even Our Breakdowns.

Literature Can Remind Us That Not All Life Is Already Written Down: There Are Still So Many Stories To Be Told.

Stories Are There To Be Told, And Each Story Changes With The Telling. Time Changes Them. Logic Changes Them. Grammar Changes Them. History Changes Them. Each Story Is Shifted Side-ways By Each Day That Unfolds. Nothing Ends. The Only Thing That Matters, As Faulkner Once Put It, Is The Human Heart In Conflict With Itself. At The Heart Of All This Is The Possibility, Or Desire, To Create A Piece Of Art That Talks To The Human Instinct For Recovery And Joy.

He Might Have Been Naive, But He Didn't Care; He Said He's Rather Die With His Heart On His Sleeve Than End Up Another Cynic.

I'm Only Telling You On The Truth," He Said. "if You Can't Stand The Truth, Don't Ask For It.

The Job Of The Writer Is To Look At Where He Is Now And Make Some Sort Of Emotional Sense Of It, Not Only For That Moment But For Years To Come.