What do you believe in? Is there anything in your life that isn't ambiguous?
The religious stuff, the Holocaust stuff, the passing inclusion of an oy — they’re all a part of the story, but are they the story?
A house is not a home, but a bookshelf can be.
How do we know that we're writing something good, and not just tossing words on a page?
Can beauty be so simple as a fruit tart? Can desire be so innocently pacified?
There is a point at which weird turns into nerdy, and nerdy turns into not cool. I have crossed that threshold.
Stop confusing righteousness with pathology. It’s insulting to actual tzaddikim.
The beauty of the Hebrew, the imposition of the commandment, and the laughter of the night, tie us together. I I forget everything; the picket lines, the ugly words, and the deep, searing, inner heartbreak of a people that have failed me.
The dishes will wait, they will always be there. Just put down your phone, walk away from your screen and start creating.
