Under the Enrichment Laws, consumers have to spend a fixed quota of dollars each month, depending on their strata. Hoarding is an anti-corpocratic crime.
I am, emphatically. Mental illness triggered by xperimental error.
As for reading, I wish I had a magic door to a library where I could go in, read for days and days, and come back in the same minute I left. I’m still looking for the door.
Love’s pure free joy when it works, but when it goes bad you pay for the good hours at loan-shark prices.
I can’t bear living in this huge beautiful world and not try to imitate it as best I can.
I can write pretty much anywhere.
Historically, unfortunately, race seems to be the major division that humanity has imposed on itself, a way of subdividing into smaller groups.
For me, novels coalesce into being, rather than arrive fully formed.
A novelist needs to know his own strong points and weak points.
A life can get knocked into a new orbit by a car crash, a lottery win or just a bleary-eyed consultant giving bad news in a calm voice.
Writing is such a damn lonely sickness.
Two people who are a little bit deluded in each other’s favour. That’s what love is, isn’t it?
Right, my phone. When these things first appeared, they were so cool. Only when it was too late did people realize they are as cool as electronic tags on remand prisoners.
Go to hell, Willy, our souls eat poetry, but one has seven deadly sins to feed!
Birdsong foamed in the hour-before-dawn garden.
Nothing is as eloquent as nothing.
Dead things show you what you’ll be too one day.
Music’s a wood you walk through.
Do ants get headaches?
The her that lived in her looked out through her eyes, through my eyes, and at the me that lives in me.