Our Life Seems Cursed To Be A

What I Sought In Books Was Imagination. It Was Depth, Depth Of Thought And Feeling; Some Sort Of Extreme Of Subject Matter; Some Nearness To Death; Some Call To Courage. I Myself Was Getting Wild; I Wanted Wildness, Originality, Genius, Rapture, Hope. ... What I Sought In Books Was A World Whose Surfaces, Whose People And Events And Days Lived, Actually Matched The Exaltation Of The Interior Life. There You Could Live.

I Can't Dance Anymore. Total Knee Replacements. I Can't Do Anything Anymore.

Almost All Of My Many Passionate Interests, And My Many Changes Of Mind, Came Through Books. Books Prompted The Many Vows I Made To Myself.

A Schedule Is A Mock-up Of Reason And Order - Willed, Faked, And So Brought Into Being.

The Way To Learn About A Writer Is To Read The Text. Or Texts.