By The Time I Was 12 Or

Being An Artist Doesn't Mean That You're A Good Artist. That Was The Bargain I First Made With Myself: I'd Say, I'm An Artist, But I'm Not Really Very Good.

Just Slip Out The Back, Jack, Make A New Plan, Stan, You Don't Need To Be Coy, Roy, Just Get Yourself Free. Hop On The Bus, Gus, You Don't Need To Discuss Much, Just Drop Off The Key, Lee, And Get Yourself Free.

People Ask How I Feel About Getting Old. I Tell Them I Have The Same Question. I'm Learning As I Go.

I Think My Hight Had The Most Significant Single Effect On My Existence, Aside From My Brain. In Fact, It's Part Of An Inferior-superior Syndrome. I Think I Have An Inferior Brain And An Inferior Stature, If You Really Want To Get Brutal About It.

I Don't Know What I'm Going To Write When I Begin To Write. It Feels Like You Are Walking Down A Path, But You Can't See Around The Bend And You Don't Know Where You Are Going To Go, Which Is Fun.