In My Paranoid World Every

It Was An Act Of Devotion. A Little Like Writing Or Loving Someone — It Doesn’t Always Feel Worthwhile, But Not Giving Up Somehow Creates Unexpected Meaning Over Time.

Look At The Sky: That Is For You. Look At Each Person's Face As You Pass Them On The Street: Those Faces Are For You. And The Street Itself, And The Ground Under The Street, And The Ball Of Fire Underneath The Ground: All These Things Are For You.

He Pulled Away, But His Eyes Held My Eyes Like Hands.

If You Want To Have A Character Who Falls Into Crisis, All You Have To Do Is Turn The Internet Off, And Then We All Understand How That Feels, When You Suddenly Just Have Time And Yourself.

I Like Embracing Kind Of Normal Forms But Am Always Trying To Approach Them As If No One's Ever Done That Before. As If I'm Literally The First Person To Ever Write A Book.