Because that small breakthrough had been so elusive, such a monstrous mountain to scale, I had this idea that once having scaled it, everything else about the Dream would finally lie at my fingertips. Having caught the tip of the Dream, I assumed the rest of it was simply to be taken. I don’t know why, five novels later, it didn’t happen. Any conjecture would only sound graceless, bitter, and self-justifying.… Looking back, I’m not sure I ever believed the Dream was possible.
“I want to hear the one thing speak that
cannot speak.
I want to know the things that can’t be known.
I want to speak only here in his closed book.
To hear those sorts of things said, that can
only be spoken in this sort of closed silence.
When the rest of the world is not awake to any
of this, and I also would rather be sleeping.
The wind making its marks on the other side of day.
And the crystal only keeping its lights, to itself.
And to me.”
Clark Coolidge | This Time We Are Both