Lord, Why Did You Leave Me In

It's Not That War Crimes Stop As Soon As A Novel About Them Is Published. Literature Operates Slowly, It Is Always Inching Toward Bliss, Never Quite Getting There.

I Wanted Us To Share The Sense That The Number Of Wrong Moves Far Exceeds The Number Of Good Moves, To Share The Frightening Instability Of The Correct Decision, To Bond In Being Confounded.

The People Who Listened To Rock 'n' Roll, I Thought, Were Bound Together Against The People Who Didn't Listen To Rock 'n' Roll. That, Of Course, Didn't Work At All. Your Taste In Rock 'n' Roll Does Not Say Anything About You, Morally Or Otherwise.

Projecting Yourself Until Everything Is Talking About You Is, Of Course, A Self-flattering Form Of Self-pity

I Like To Blow Up This Notion That All We Have To Do As Writers And Artists Is Represent Reality, Which Is Presumably Solid And Self-evident, With No Negotiation Of The Gap Between Myself And The World, Between This Body And This Space, Which Needs Narration To Close It.