"There’s no such thing as perfect writing.
Just like there’s no such thing as perfect despair."
The task of writing consists primarily in recognizing
the distance between oneself and the things around one.
It is not sensitivity one needs, but a yardstick.
(What’s So Bad About Feeling Good?, 1936).
"To those of gloomy spirit come only gloomy dreams."
That’s what my grandmother always said.
The night my grandmother died,
the very first thing I did was reach out to close her eyes.
And as I drew her eyelids down,
the dreams of her seventy-nine years
quietly dispersed like a passing
summer shower on a shopping street,
leaving not a thing behind.