All Killer Whales Are Named Kevin. You

She Doesn't Understand That A Writer Is A Special Creature--that I'm Different From Everyone Else. I'm Not Saying I'm Superior To Other People, Just More Sensitive, I Guess.

You Don't Hurry A Thinker, And You Don't Talk To Him When He's Thinking. It's Just Inconsiderate.

. . . And So Charlie Asher . . . Led An Army Of Fourteen-inch-tall Bundles Of Animal Bits, Armed With Everything From Knitting Needles To A Spork, Into The Storm Sewers Of San Fransciso.

He Has The Attention Span Of A Hummingbird.

Like Looking Down On A Lubricious Chess Set, Isn't It? The King Moves In Tiny Steps, With No Direction, Like A Drunkard Trying To Avoid The Archer's Bolt. The Others Work Their Strategies And Wait For The Old Man To Fall. He Has No Power, Yet All Power Moves In His Orbit And To His Mad Whim. Do You Know There's No Fool Piece On The Chessboard, Kent?" "methinks The Fool Is The Player, The Mind Above The Moves.