Never Stop Paying Attention To Things. Never

Mine The Long Night The Secret Place Where Lovers Meet In Long Embrace In Purple Dark In Silvered Kiss Forget The World And Grasp Your Bliss

History, Writing, Infect After A Time A Man's Sense Of Himself.

I Like Feeling My Way Into Different Minds And Experiences. It Comes Naturally And Always Has.

He Was Beautiful, That Was Always Affirmed, But His Beauty Was Hard To Fix Or To See, For He Was Always Glimmering, Flickering, Melting, Mixing, He Was The Shape Of A Shapeless Flame, He Was The Eddying Thread Of Needle-shapes In The Shapeless Mass Of The Waterfall. He Was The Invisible Wind That Hurried The Clouds In Billows And Ribbons. You Could See A Bare Tree On The Skyline Bent By The Wind, Holding Up Twisted Branches And Bent Twigs, And Suddenly Its Formless Form Would Resolve Itself Into That Of The Trickster.

I Hated Being A Novelist When I Was 20 - I Had Nothing To Write About.