"Here’s something that I’d say to writers: At least have the decency to claim your unhappiness. Don’t leave it lying around the house, bleeding like that. Make something of it. Yes, yes, but sometimes the soul is so sick it isn’t able to open the door. What I mean to say is that my soul stays shy when it hears someone spill the
"Really, the obfuscators are cowards. So what if language can only approximate? Some writers approximate better than others. Count me as someone who tries to be as clear as he can about what it feels like to be alive while knowing the heart itself resides in the dark."