I Often Don't Read Reviews.

And Though You Think The World Is At Your Feet, It Can Rise Up And Tread On You.

This Commonplace Cycle Of Falling Asleep And Waking, In Darkness, Under Private Cover, With Another Creature, A Pale Soft Tender Mammal, Putting Faces Together In A Ritual Of Affection, Briefly Settled In The Eternal Necessities Of Warmth, Comfort, Safety, Crossing Limbs To Draw Nearer - A Simple Daily Consolation, Almost Too Obvious, Easy To Forget By Daylight.

I Wouldn't Mind Being The Lead Guitarist In An Incredibly Successful Rock Band. However, I Don't Play The Guitar.

I Think The Novel, Its Business Is The Investigation Of Human Nature.

How Guilt Refined The Methods Of Self-torture, Threading The Beads Of Detail Into An Eternal Loop, A Rosary To Be Fingered For A Lifetime.