To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished.
I was asked to act when I couldn’t act. I was asked to sing ’Funny Face’ when I couldn’t sing, and dance with Fred Astaire when I couldn’t dance - and do all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared for. Then I tried like mad to cope with it.