Driving at night with both windows down.

Saying exactly what’s on your mind, even if it is just telling someone to stop talking.

I’m not entirely sure why this is, but it is a good thing to spend time alone.

One eventually finds joy in what one knows.

Doing nothing in particular, the line that one is looking for to use in a story comes to you, and you memorize it so as not to have it slip away.

Spring.

Old willow trees. It is especially good to lay flat on top of the picnic table under the one stately Willow tree beside the botanical department. To lie there and watch the sky through the thousand knife-like leaves always calms me to the absolute bottom of what is possible. The movement of the branches in the wind makes me want to smile and weep.