My own experience is that once a story has been written, one has to cross out the beginning and the end. It is there that we authors do most of our lying.
To regard one’s immortality as an exchange of matter is as strange as predicting the future of a violin case once the expensive violin it held has broken and lost its worth.
My holy of holies is the human body, health, intelligence, talent, inspiration, love, and absolute freedom–freedom from violence and falsehood, no matter how the last two manifest themselves.
