I Have No Television - I Hate

That Wasn't A Bad Price For A First Book. My Agent Upped It As Much As Possible. I Was 27 And Had Nothing Behind Me. I Was Working Like A Fool To Earn A Living And Pay For My Apartment

My Imagination Functions Much Better When I Don't Have To Speak To People.

And No Book, And Possibly No Painting, When It Is Finished, Is Ever Exactly Like The First Dream Of It.

January. It Was All Things. And It Was One Thing, Like A Solid Door. Its Cold Sealed The City In A Gray Capsule. January Was Moments, And January Was A Year. January Rained The Moments Down, And Froze Them In Her Memory: [...]every Human Action Seemed To Yield A Magic. January Was A Two-faced Month, Jangling Like Jester's Bells, Crackling Like Snow Crust, Pure As Any Beginning, Grim As An Old Man, Mysteriously Familiar Yet Unknown, Like A Word One Can Almost But Not Quite Define.

The Justice I Have Received, I Shall Give Back.