She Had A Laugh That Hinted It

This Was The Time In Her Life That She Fell Upon Books As The Only Door Out Of Her Cell. They Became Half Her World.

Her Hand Touched Me At The Wrist. "if I Gave You My Life, You Would Drop It. Wouldn't You?" I Didn't Say Anything.

I Have Spent Weeks In The Desert, Forgetting To Look At The Moon, He Says, As A Married Man May Spend Days Never Looking Into The Face Of His Wife. These Are Not Sins Of Omission But Signs Of Pre-occuopation.

You're Getting Everyone's Point Of View At The Same Time, Which For Me, Is The Perfect State For A Novel: A Cubist State, The Cubist Novel.

I Don't See Novels Ending With Any Real Sense Of Closure.