If People Don't Read, That's Their Choice;

I Am Addicted To Arrivals, To Those Innocent Dawn Moments From Which History Accelerates.

I'm Writing Another Novel And I Know What I'm Going To Do After, Which May Be Something More Like This Again, Maybe Some Strange Mixture Of Fiction And Non-fiction.

I Believe That The Experience Of Childhood Is Irretrievable. All That Remains, For Any Of Us, Is A Headful Of Brilliant Frozen Moments, Already Dangerously Distorted By The Wisdoms Of Maturity.

We Open Our Mouths And Out Flow Words Whose Ancestries We Do Not Even Know. We Are Walking Lexicons. In A Single Sentence Of Idle Chatter We Preserve Latin, Anglo-saxon, Norse: We Carry A Museum Inside Our Heads, Each Day We Commemorate Peoples Of Whom We Have Never Heard.

I've Always Been Fascinated By The Operation Of Memory - The Way In Which It Is Not Linear But Fragmented, And Its Ambivalence.