Before I Started To Make

People Usually Don't Allow You To Cut Off Their Tongue.

As The Son Of Holocaust Survivors, This Is Life - You're Put In A Corner, And You Have To Get Out. I Believe That You Can Always Get Out.

I Think There Are Some Artists Whose Works Are Misanthropic.

And She Loved A Man Who Was Made Out Of Nothing. A Few Hours Without Him And Right Away She’d Be Missing Him With Her Whole Body, Sitting In Her Office Surrounded By Polyethylene And Concrete And Thinking Of Him. And Every Time She’d Boil Water For Coffee In Her Ground-floor Office, She’d Let The Steam Cover Her Face, Imagining It Was Him Stroking Her Cheeks, Her Eyelids And She’d Wait For The Day To Be Over, So She Could Go To Her Apartment Building, Climb The Flight Of Stairs, Turn The Key In The Door, And Find Him Waiting For Her, Naked And Still Between The Sheets Of Her Empty Bed.

I Think When You Write, You Should Call It A "writing Spree." I Don't Write Every Day, And I Don't Write Regularly.