I Do Forget Sometimes How Much It

Just As There Exists In Writing A Literal Truth And A Poetic Truth, There Also Exists In A Human Being A Literal Anatomy And A Poetic Anatomy. One, You Can See; One, You Cannot. One Is Made Of Bones And Teeth And Flesh; The Other Is Made Of Energy And Memory And Faith. But They Are Both Equally True.

Now, If You Are Like Me - If You Are Like Practically Anybody In America - Then You Probably Hold Some Negative Opinions About The French, Based Upon Movies, Rumors, Recent Headlines, Unfortunate Run-ins With Parisian Waiters, Or... You Know... All That Unpleasantness Surrounding The Vichy Regime.

There's A Part Of Me Which Has Always Wanted To Hear A Man Say, "let Me Take Care Of You Forever," And I Have Never Heard It Spoken Before. Over The Last Few Years, I'd Given Up Looking For That Person, Learned How To Say This Heartening Sentence To Myself, Especially In Times Of Fear. But To Hear It From Someone Else Now, From Someone Who Is Speaking Sincerely.

The Only Thing More Unthinkable Than Leaving Was Staying; The Only Thing More Impossible Than Staying Was Leaving.

As A Writer, You Always Read In Two Minds: You Read As A Reader And You Enjoy It, And You Look At It As A Writer, And You Just Admire The Architecture And The Construction.