“One thing I'm sure Colborne will never understand is that I need language to live, like foodlexemes and morphemes and morsels of meaning nourish me with the knowledge that, yes, there is a word for...”

“For us, everything was a performance. A small, private smile catches me off guard and I glance down, hoping he wont see it. Everything poetic.”

“For us, everything was a performance.” A small, private smile catches me off guard and I glance down, hoping he won’t see it. “Everything poetic.”

“All words are pegs to hang ideas on.”

“A word is not the same with one writer as it is with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.”

“No doubt I shall go on writing, stumbling across tundras of unmeaning, planting words like bloody flags in my wake....”