I Am Married To Someone I Love.

While Reading Writers Of Great Formulatory Power — Henry James, Santayana, Proust — I Find I Can Scarcely Get Through A Page Without Having To Stop To Record Some Lapidary Sentence. Reading Henry James, For Example, I Have Muttered To Myself, "c’mon, Henry, Turn Down The Brilliance A Notch, So I Can Get Some Reading Done." I May Be One Of A Very Small Number Of People Who Have Developed Writer’s Cramp While Reading.

Within This Realm Of Choicelessness, We Do Choose How We Live.

I Am The Heterosexual Truman Capote.

I Am Basically A Complainer And All The Grounds For Complaint Have Been Swept Out From Under Me.

If Geniuses Can Sometimes Make Mistakes, Cannot The Rest Of Us On Occasion Be Geniuses?