Books Dont Need Batteries

Time Is Change; We Measure Its Passage By How Much Things Alter.

The Solitude Of Writing Is Also Quite Frightening. It's Quite Close To Madness, One Just Disappears For A Day And Loses Touch.

Exile As A Mode Of Genius No Longer Exists; In Place Of Joyce We Have The Fragments Of Work Appearing In Index On Censorship.

I Never Talk About What I'm Writing About Currently, Never. It's Private Work On Your Own, No Need Or Obligation To Talk About It. Writers Are Made Into Performers These Days, Including Myself, But There Are Some Instances In Which I Will Not Perform.

Keenness Of Hearing Revives When One Is Alone.