There Always Should Be Something Hanging Unfinished

From This Point On, She Whispered, We Will Either Find Or Lose Our Souls.

How Does This Happen? To Fall In Love And Be Disassembled.

I Love The Performance Of A Craft, Whether It Is Modest Or Mean-spirited, Yet I Walk Away When Discussions Of It Begin - As If One Should Ask A Gravedigger What Brand Of Shovel He Uses Or Whether He Prefers To Work At Noon Or In Moonlight. I Am Interested Only In The Care Taken, And Those Secret Rehearsals Behind It. Even If I Do Not Understand Fully What Is Taking Place.

When You're Writing, It's As If You're Within A Kind Of Closed World.

Death Means You Are In The Third Person.