How many hours I waste lying in bed thinking about getting up. I see myself get up, go out, move, drink, eat, smile, turn, pay attention, talk, go up, go down. I am absent from that part, yet participating at the same time. A voyeur in all senses, in my actions, non-actions. What a delight it might be actually to get up without thinking, and then when dressed look back and still see myself curled up fast asleep under the blankets.
“The sentence, if it is doing every one of its jobs, does not want you to desert it for another. It wants you to peer into each of its words, into the characters that form it, and the sentence wants you to consider the relations, acoustical and otherwise, between one word and another. The sentence wants to slow you down so that you might witness everything the writer has caused to happen inside it. Chance and randomness and accident should have little or no part in what goes on inside the sentence.”
Garielle Lutz