I Am Interested In Silences

And What Amazes Me As I Hit The Motorway Is Not The Fact That Everyone Loses Someone, But That Everyone Loves Someone. It Seems Like Such A Massive Waste Of Energy -- And We All Do It, All The People Beetling Along Between The White Lines, Merging, Converging, Overtaking. We Each Love Someone, Even Though They Will Die. And We Keep Loving Them, Even When They Are Not There To Love Any More. And There Is No Logic Or Use To Any Of This, That I Can See.

I'm Quite Interested In The Absolute Roots Of Narrative, Why We Tell Stories At All: Where The Monsters Come From.

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

People Think Motherhood Involves A Lot Of Domestic Labor, And It Doesn't. It Involves Being Nice To Your Children As Often As Possible. That's Part Of My Trick. I Don't Have That Anxiety About Meeting Their Needs.

I Do Not Think We Remember Our Family In Any Real Sense. We Live In Them Instead