Everyone's A Little Crazy When You Get

But Come Back In November Or December, In February Or March, When The Fog, La Nebbia, Settles Upon The City Like A Marvelous Monster, And You Will Have Little Trouble Believing That Things Can Appear And Disappear In This Labyrinthine City, Or That Time Here Could Easily Slip In Its Sprockets And Take You, Willingly Or Unwillingly, Back.

I've Become More Conservative About Sex As I've Gotten Older.

Creativity Demands Nothing Less Than All You Have. Talent Alone Is Never Enough.

Ambivalence Is A Wonderful Tune To Dance To. It Has A Rhythm All Its Own.

Solitude Is Un-american.