One Tiny Flame Could Make So Many

I'm Going To Keep On Dealing With The Supernatural In A Lot Of Ways.

Time Can Tick When There Is No Clock.

I Like Mainly To Be Invisible, To Sort Of Drift Around Unseen In The World.

Once I Returned To The Church And Began To See The Universe As A Place That Really Did Incorporate Redemption And Really Tried To Understand The Implications Of There Being A God, My Identification With The Vampires As Outcasts, As Outsiders And Lost Souls Began To Totally Wane. It No Longer Worked For Me. I Had Done It. It Had Led Me To This Point.

In Spite Of All The Refinements Of Civilization That Conspired To Make Art--the Dizzying Perfection Of The String Quartet Or The Sprawling Grandeur Of Fragonard's Canvases--beauty Was Savage. It Was As Dangerous And Lawless As The Earth Had Been Eons Before Man Had One Single Coherent Thought In His Head Or Wrote Codes Of Conduct On Tablets Of Clay. Beauty Was A Savage Garden.