Events Need Their Invitation, Dissolutions

You Lived And Died Alone, Especially In Fighters. Fighters. Somehow, Despite Everything, That Word Had Not Become Sterile. You Slipped Into The Hollow Cockpit And Strapped And Plugged Yourself Into The Machine. The Canopy Ground Shut And Sealed You Off. Your Oxygen, Your Very Breath, You Carried Into The Chilled Vacuum, In A Steel Bottle.

Now They Are Lovers. The First, Wild Courses Are Ended. They Have Founded Their Domain. A Satanic Happiness Follows.

It Seems To Me That Literature Is Giving Way A Little Bit To The Immediacy Of Other Diversions, Other Forms Of Entertainment. What Will It Be In Fifty Years? I Don't Know. Will There Be Printed Books? Probably, But I'm Not Sure. There's Always Going To Be Literature, Though. I Believe That. I Think Literature Has A Way Of Getting Deep Into People And Being Essential. Literature Has Its Own Powers.

You Are Perfectly Entitled To Invent Your Life And To Claim That It's True.

Normally, What You’re Envious Of Is A Book, Not A Writer: Standards, Ideas, Levels … Almost Nonexistent Things.