Americans Will Listen, But They Do Not

But Where I Itty Now, O My Brothers, Is All On My Oddy Knocky, Where You Cannot Go. Tomorrow Is All Like Sweet Flowers And The Turning Vonny Earth And The Stars And The Old Luna Up There. ... And All That Cal.

If He Can Only Perform Good Or Only Perform Evil, Then He Is A Clockwork Orange—meaning That He Has The Appearance Of An Organism Lovely With Colour And Juice But Is In Fact Only A Clockwork Toy To Be Wound Up By God Or The Devil.

I Was Always On My Oddy Knocky.

Then, Brothers, It Came. Oh, Bliss, Bliss And Heaven. I Lay All Nagoy To The Ceiling, My Gulliver On My Rookers On The Pillow, Glazzies Closed, Rot Open In Bliss, Slooshying The Sluice Of Lovely Sounds. Oh, It Was Gorgeousness And Gorgeosity Made Flesh.

A Man Can Write One Book That Can Be Great, But This Doesn't Make Him A Great Writer-just The Writer Of A Great Book. . . I Think A Writer Has To Extend Very Widely, As Well As Plunge Very Deep, To Be A Great Novelist.