I Cried In English, I Cried In

You Always Feel Like You Are The Only One In The World, Like Everyone Else Is Crazy For Each Other, But It's Not True. Generally, People Don't Like Each Other Very Much. And That Goes For Friends, Too.

Was She Terrifyingly Beautiful? Was She So Ignorant She Didn't Deserve The Truth? Was She Also A Liar And Thus It Was Something They Did Together? I Don't Believe In Psychology; Which Says Everything You Do Is Because Of Yourself. That Is So Untrue. We Are Social Animals, And Everything We Do Is Because Of Other People, Because We Love Them, Or Because We Don't.

Thus Far, Everything I've Made Has Come Out Of My Really Feeling It, Out Of The Fire Of My Life.

After I Had My Son I Looked Everywhere For A Book That Might Serve As Some Kind Of Mirror. I Bought So Many Silly Books. Now I See What The Problem Was: I Wanted A Book About Time-about Mortality. I Can't Think Of A Writer Who Is At Once So Experimentally Daring And So Rigorously Uncompromising As Sarah Manguso. Ongoingness Is An Incredibly Elegant, Wise Book, And I Loved It.

Things Usually Make Sense In Time, And Even Bad Decisions Have Their Own Kind Of Correctness.