Sunday morning: half dead but fully alive.

When does “verge of collapse” become actual collapse?

When the anguish of youth meets the resignation of age.

Once you’ve had a thought there’s no reason to ever have it again.

He still has the dream in which he’s continued working on his long-abandoned novel and only now, after all these years, realizes he will have to start over. He always wakes with a heaviness in his chest. It wasn’t until after his father died that he recognized the feeling. He’d always sensed life had a plan for him, and he’d been right. There just aren’t any words for it.

The generative power of creation is limitless and inexhaustible, but I am limited—and exhausted.

Things you thought were important turned out not to be important.
Things you thought were not important turned out to be important.

Driving back, you remember the hopeful innocent you were just a week ago, still on your way.