Hoboken Is A Neat Place.

I Believe It Is Impossible To Make Sense Of Life In This World Except Through Art.

The Activities Of These Parasites And Degenerates Gave Rise To Cubism, Fauvism, Futurism, Pointillism, Constructivism, Orphism, Surrealism, Dada, And Also Impossibleism, Supersurrealism, Dynamic Double-dog Realism, Ishkabibbleism, And Mama, Which Is Like Dada Only Nicer.

I'd Always Liked To Write, But I Never Wanted To Be A Writer, Because It Seemed A Sissy Occupation. It Is. To This Day, I Find It Terribly Easy. And So, Rather Than Trying To Hunt Up A Text, I Just Wrote One.

I Imagine A Child. That Child Is Me. I Can Reconstruct And Vividly Remember Portions Of My Own Childhood. I Can See, Taste, Smell, Feel, And Hear Them. Then What I Do Is, Not Write About That Kid Or About His World, But Start To Think Of A Book That Would Have Pleased Him.

The Old Saw About Old Dogs And New Tricks Only Applies To Certain People.