Death And I Are Head

Athletes Have Studied How To Leap And How To Survive The Leap Some Of The Time And Return To The Ground. They Don't Always Do It Well. But They Are Our Philosophers Of Actual Moments And The Body And Soul In Them, And Of Our Maneuvers In Our Emergencies And Longings.

Often Writing Is Like A Struggle To Get Back To A Kind Of Belated, Quite Impure Virginity.

Me, My Literary Reputation Is Mostly Abroad, But I Am Anchored Here In New York. I Can't Think Of Any Other Place I'd Rather Die Than Here.

I Distrust Summaries, Any Kind Of Gliding Through Time, Any Too Great A Claim That One Is In Control Of What One Recounts; I Think Someone Who Claims To Understand But Is Obviously Calk, Someone Who Claims To Write With Emotion Recollected In Tranquility, Is A Fool And A Liar. To Understand Is To Tremble. To Recollect Is To Re-enter And Be Riven. ... I Admire The Authority Of Being On One's Knees In Front Of The Event.

Death Is Not Soft-mouthed, Vague-footed, Nearby. It Is In The Hall.