There Are So Many Different

There Are Times When Every Act, No Matter How Private And Unconscious, Becomes Political.

I Think Maybe Writers Come From Different Planets. I Mean, Not In Any Sense As Extravagant As Baryshnikov. But There Are Some Writers Who Understand Each Other This Way And Others Who Understand Each Other That Way. Then There's This Great Herd, The "herd Of Independent Minds."

I Think When You Are Truly Stuck, When You Have Stood Still In The Same Spot For Too Long, You Throw A Grenade In Exactly The Spot You Were Standing In, And Jump, And Pray. It Is The Momentum Of Last Resort.

There Is A Difference, Of Course, Between Real Sentiment And The Trash Of Shared Experience.

Being Neurotic Seemed To Be A Kind Of Wild Card, An All-purpose Explanation.