...the Heart Is An Organ Of Fire.

I'll Be Looking At The Moon, But I'll Be Seeing You.

It's Why You Create Characters: So You Can Argue With Yourself.

For We Live With Those Retrievals From Childhood That Coalesce And Echo Throughout Our Lives, The Way Shattered Pieces Of Glass In A Kaleidoscope Reappear In New Forms And Are Songlike In Their Refrains And Rhymes, Making Up A Single Monologue. We Live Permanently In The Recurrence Of Our Own Stories, Whatever Story We Tell.

I Often Need A Limited Space. It's Like Having A House To Roam Around In And Reinvent And Have Things To Happen In, Kind Of Like A French Farce. Doors Opening, Doors Closing, New People Arriving, And Disappearing, And So Forth.

What Night Gave Rafael Was A Formlessness In Which Everything Had A Purpose. As If Darkness Had A Hidden Musical Language.