The Sea Where Living Creatures Were At

Every Time I Must Find Something To Do That Will Look Like Something A Little Beyond My Capabilities.

It Is Only Through The Confining Act Of Writing That The Immensity Of The Nonwritten Becomes Legible

Elsewhere Is A Negative Mirror. The Traveler Recognizes The Little That Is His, Discovering The Much He Has Not Had And Will Never Have.

Every New Book I Read Comes To Be A Part Of That Overall And Unitary Book That Is The Sum Of My Readings...if You Need Little To Set The Imagination Going, I Require Even Less: The Promise Of Reading Is Enough.

It Was The Hour In Which Objects Lose The Consistency Of Shadow That Accompanies Them During The Night And Gradually Reacquire Colors, But Seem To Cross Meanwhile An Uncertain Limbo, Faintly Touched, Just Breathed On By Light; The Hour In Which One Is Least Certain Of The World's Existence.