A Father Is A Reality-concealing Machine, A

Quite Possibly, What I Call Happiness May Coincide With What Others Call The Moment Of Imminent Danger

Yet How Strange A Thing Is The Beauty Of Music! The Brief Beauty That The Player Brings Into Being Transforms A Given Period Of Time Into Pure Continuance; It Is Certain Never To Be Repeated; Like The Existence Of Dayflies And Other Such Short-lived Creatures, Beauty Is A Perfect Abstraction And Creation Of Life Itself. Nothing Is So Similar To Life As Music.

A Father Is A Reality-concealing Machine, A Machine For Dishing Up Lies To Kids, And That Isn't Even The Worst Of It: Secretly He Believes That He Represents Reality.

The Only People In This World I Really Trust Are My Fans - Even If They Do Forget You So Fast.

All My Life I Have Been Acutely Aware Of A Contradiction In The Very Nature Of My Existence. For Forty-five Years I Struggled To Resolve This Dilemma By Writing Plays And Novels. The More I Wrote, The More I Realized Mere Words Were Not Enough. So I Found Another Form Of Expression.