A Page Of Good Prose Remains Invincible.

The Poet Or Storyteller Who Feels That He Is Competing With A Superb Double Play In The World Series Is A Lost Man. One Would Not Want As A Reader A Man Who Did Not Appreciate The Finesse Of A Double Play.

I Look Up The Telephone Number Of Alcoholics Anonymous. Then, My Hands Shaking, I Open The Bar And Drink The Leftover Whiskey, Gin And Vermouth-whatever I Can Lay My Shaking Hands On.

The Organizations Of Men, Like Men Themselves, Seem Subject To Deafness, Near-sightedness, Lameness, And Involuntary Cruelty. We Seem Tragically Unable To Help One Another, To Understand One Another.

Fiction Is Art And Art Is The Triumph Over Chaos… To Celebrate A World That Lies Spread Out Around Us Like A Bewildering And Stupendous Dream.

Children Drown, Beautiful Women Are Mangled In Automobile Accidents, Cruise Ships Founder, And Men Die Lingering Deaths In Mines And Submarines, But You Will Find None Of This In My Accounts.