I Am Interested In Silences

When I'm Working, I'm Not So Much Disciplined As Obsessive. I Have This Feeling That I Need To Clear Everything Away And Get This Down.

There Is Nothing As Tentative As An Old Woman's Touch; As Loving Or As Horrible.

I Have A Small Room To Write In. One Wall Is Completely Covered In Books. And I Face The Window With The Curtain Closed To Stop The Light Hitting The Computer.

Belief Needs Something Terrible To Make It Work, I Find--blood, Nails, A Bit Of Anguish.

I Do Not Believe In Evil- I Believe That We Are Human And Fallible, That We Things And Spoil Them In An Ordinary Way.