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She thougt of sunrise over the library slope at Cornell University that nobody out on it had seen because the slope faces west.

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What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?
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Body God Healing Need Stars Terrorism
They plot, they plot, sleeping or afoot they never let up.
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All investigations of Time, however sophisticated or abstract, have at their true base the human fear of mortality.
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Love with your mouth shut, help without breaking your ass or publicizing it: keep cool, but care.
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If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don’t have to worry about answers.
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My belief is that “recluse” is a code word generated by journalists; meaning, “doesn’t like to talk to reporters.”
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Believe Code Journalist Media Myself Report Talk Word
Get too conceptual, too cute and remote, and your characters die on the page.
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You know what a miracle is. Not what Bakunin said. But another world’s intrusion into this one. Most of the time we coexist peacefully, but when we do touch there’s cataclysm.
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Existence Fantasy Intrude Miracle Mission Peace Spiritual Time Touch World Yourself
But with a sigh he had released her hand, while she was so lost in the fantasy that she hadn’t felt it go away, as if he’d known the best moment to let go.
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Fantasy Feeling Hands Let Go Lost Moments
There is nothing so loathsome as a sentimental surrealist.
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Ills are many, blessings few, but dreams tonight will shelter you.
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Blessing Dreams Home Night Protection Yourself
There is no real direction here, neither lines of power nor cooperation. Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.
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Let me be unambiguous. I prefer not to be photographed.
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If the world offered nothing, nowhere to support or make bearable whatever her private grief was, then it is that world, and not she, that is at fault.
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Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.
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Our history is an aggregate of last moments.
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