It's not ‘natural' to speak well, eloquently, in an interesting articulate way. People living in groups, families, communes say little—have few verbal means. Eloquence—thinking in words—is a byproduct of solitude, deracination, a heightened painful individuality.
A crisis of self-respect. What makes me feel strong? Being in love and work. I must work. I'm being wasted by self-pity and self-contempt.
I like to feel dumb. That's how I know there's more in the world than me.
If I thought that what I'm doing when I write is expressing myself, I'd junk the typewriter. Writing is a much more complicated activity that that.
We live in a time in which tragedy is not an art form but a form of history.
To discuss the idea of silence in art is to discuss the various alternatives within this essentially unalterable situation.