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I want to tell you what it was really like to think death is imminent, but I can't. It's a taste in your mouth. And an emptiness.
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If you really like someone, it doesn't matter what their mouth feels or tastes like. The kiss is still awesome.
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No one's mouth is big enough to utter the whole thing.
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Fortunately, however, birds don't understand pep talks. Not even St. Francis'. Just imagine, he went on, preaching sermons to perfectly good thrushes and goldfinches and chiff-chaffs! What presumption! Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut and let the birds preach to him?
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Science fiction is never about the future, in the same way history is rarely about the past: they're both parable formats for examining or commenting on the present.
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The present enables us to understand the past, not the other way round.
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I'm not an athiest. How can you not believe in something that doesn't exist? That's way too convoluted for me.
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Just as modern motorways have no room for ox-carts or wandering pedestrians, so modern society has little place for lives and ways that are too eccentric.
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Write every day. Writing is a muscle that gets stronger with use.
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I always try not to overload my music with orchestration and to use only those instruments that are absolutely necessary.
