I find what I thought when I look at what I have written. I know why I write: I have an indomitable urge, as if a voice dictated to me and then the text engenders itself. I should like to know the center… the voice. It may be God’s.
“The tension of a finely crafted sentence – one which I attempt to fashion or one which I consume – offers me all the adventure I need – for if I never arrive at closure, to take stock of the cumulative ambiguities “between the lines,” how will I know where I am?”
Mary Caponegro