Literature Is The Product Of A Strange

Coincidence Obeys No Laws And If It Does We Don't Know What They Are. Coincidence, If You'll Permit Me The Simile, Is Like The Manifestation Of God At Every Moment On Our Planet. A Senseless God Making Senseless Gestures At His Senseless Creatures. In That Hurricane, In That Osseous Implosion, We Find Communion.

Nothing Is Ever Behind Us.

Literature Is A Vast Forest And The Masterpieces Are The Lakes, The Towering Trees Or Strange Trees, The Lovely, Eloquent Flowers, The Hidden Caves, But A Forest Is Also Made Up Of Ordinary Trees, Patches Of Grass, Puddles, Clinging Vines, Mushrooms, And Little Wildflowers.

Every Book In The World Is Out There Waiting To Be Read By Me.

Nothing Happened Today. And If Anything Did, I’d Rather Not Talk About It, Because I Didn’t Understand It.