I Want To Know Everything About You,

I Think You Would Like Warren. He Drinks Courvoisier In A Coke Can, And Has A Laugh Like You'd Find In A Cartoon Bubble.

As Soon As I Knew That I Would Be All Right, I Was Sure That I Was Dead And Didn't Know It. I Moved Through The Days Like A Severed Head That Finishes A Sentence. I Waited For The Moment That Would Snap Me Out Of My Seeming Life.

An Idea Might Spark An Essay, But Never A Story.

He Wondered How We Know That What Happens To Us Isn't Good.

I Have Written Letters That Are Failures, But I Have Written Few, I Think, That Are Lies. Trying To Reach A Person Means Asking The Same Question Over And Over Again: Is This The Truth, Or Not? I Begin This Letter To You, Then, In The Western Tradition. If I Understand It, The Western Tradition Is: Put Your Cards On The Table.