The Ideal Art, The Noblest Of Art:

I Have Beliefs, Of Course, Like Everyone-but I Don't Always Believe In Them.

My Students Often Say, "my Roommate Read This Story And Really Liked It", And It's Hard To Convince Them That There Are Things Wrong With It. I Say, "well, People Who Love You Want You To Be Happy. But I'm Your Professor And I'm Supposed To Be Teaching You Something."

Art Is A Means Of Memorialization Of The Past, A Record Of A Rapidly Vanishing World; A Means Of Exorcising, At Least Temporarily, The Ravages Of Homesickness. To Speak Of 'what Is Past, Or Passing Or To Come'-in The Most Meticulous Language Thereby To Assure Its Permanence; To Honor Those We've Loved And Learned From And Must Outlive.

Her Wish To Die Was As Pervasive As A Dial Tone: You Lift The Receiver, It's Always There.

Night Comes To The Desert All At Once, As If Someone Turned Off The Light.