The Trick Is Not Becoming A Writer.

Be Careful Of Monsters With Teeth

Like A Wind Crying Endlessly Through The Universe, Time Carries Away The Names And The Deeds Of Conquerors And Commoners Alike. And All That We Were, All That Remains, Is In The Memories Of Those Who Cared We Came This Way For A Brief Moment.

I Don't Know How You Perceive My Mission As A Writer, But For Me It Is Not A Responsibility To Reaffirm Your Concretized Myths And Provincial Prejudices. It Is Not My Job To Lull You With A False Sense Of The Rightness Of The Universe. This Wonderful And Terrible Occupation Of Recreating The World In A Different Way, Each Time Fresh And Strange, Is An Act Of Revolutionary Guerrilla Warfare. I Stir The Soup. I Inconvenience You. I Make Your Nose Run And Your Eyes Water.

Writing Is The Hardest Work In The World. I Have Been A Bricklayer And A Truck Driver, And I Tell You – As If You Haven't Been Told A Million Times Already – That Writing Is Harder. Lonelier. And Nobler And More Enriching.

A Man May Truly Live In His Dreams, His Noblest Dreams, But Only, Only If He Is Worthy Of Those Dreams.