No, what I felt was the torment of waiting, stuck between the end of one sentence and the beginning of the next which might or might not bring a hail storm, plane crash, poetic justice, or a miraculou...
My child, My love and my regret, as you were when I first laid eyes on you, a tiny old man who hadn't the time to brush off his ancient expression, naked and misshapen in the nurse's arms.
Later - when things happened that they could never have imagined - she wrote him a letter that said: When will you learn that there isn't a word for everything?
It's strange what the heart can do when the mind is giving the directions.
In life we sit at the table and refuse to eat, and in death we are eternally hungry.
For Chanukah I asked for a sleeping bag. The one of my mother got me had pink hearts on it, was made of flannel, and would keep me alive for about five seconds in subzero temperatures before I died of...
But as I remember it, he looked alternately bored and preoccupied throughout the meal, as if, while one part of him was drinking Bordeaux and cutting his food into bite-sized morsels, the other half w...
After all, the world population of artists has exploded, almost no one is not an artist now; in turning our attention inward, so have we turned all of our hope inward, believing that meaning can be fo...
A wave of nausea came over me. And yet. Sometimes you need a stroke of genius and, lo and behold, genius comes and strokes you
Larger than life...I've never understood that expression. What's larger than life?
Where he saw a page of words, his friend saw the field of hesitations, black holes, and possibilities between the words. Where his friend saw dappled light, the felicity of flight, the sadness of grav...
To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while you realize that having a quarter-of-an-inch of something you have a...
These things were lost to oblivion like so much about so many who are born and die without anyone ever taking the time to write it all down.
There were books everywhere. There were pens, and a blue glass vase, an ash tray from the Dolder Grand in Zürich, the rusted arrow of a weather vane, a little brass hourglass, sand dollars on the wind...
The truth was I'd given up waiting long ago. The moment had passed, the door between the lives we could have led and the lives we led had shut in our faces. Or better to say, in face. Grammar of my l...
THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKYLeopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920.He died learning to walk.He died standing at the blackboard.And once, also, carrying a heavy tray.He died practicing a new wa...
Sự thật là đôi khi người ta cảm thấy được một số cảm xúc và vì không có từ ngữ diễn tả chúng, chúng trôi đi mà không được nhắc đến. Cảm xúc lâu đời nhất trên thế giới có lẽ là xúc động; nhưng để mô tả...
Sometimes, reading to my children at night, the perverse thought would come to me that in rehashing for them the same fairy stories, Bible stories, and myths, I was not giving them a gift but rather t...
Sometimes just to paint a head you have to give up the whole figure. To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while...
Narrative cannot sustain formlessness any more than light can sustain darkness - it is the antithesis of formlessness, and so it can never truly communicate it. Chaos is the one truth that narrative m...