I Don't Really Collect Anything. I Mean,

In A Mad Moment, My Family And I Purchased A Home In Maine Because It's The Place In The World That My Wife Loves Better Than Any Other Place Or Any Other Human, And So I Have Committed My Life And What Had Once Been My Economic Security That Has Now Returned To Insecurity, To A Patch Of Painful, Rocky Land On The Shores Of Horrible, Cold Waters To A Place Where People Go In The Summer To Experience Autumn Because Leaves Start Falling On August 1.

I Still Have A Fondness For Books. Many A Time I Will Be Antiquing, And I'll Say, 'what's That Old-timey Curio Over There? What Is That, A Candlestick Telephone, One Of Those Old Pull-chain Toilets? Oh No, It's A Book. I Used To Help Make Those Things! I Will Buy It And Use It To Decorate My Chain Of Casual Family-dining Restaurants.

Life May Be Miraculous In Its Unlikelihood In The Universe, But It Would Be A Fallacy To Suggest That Its Rareness Makes It Inextinguishable.

A Lot Of My Time Is Spent Reading Antique Or Out-of-print Books Of Reference.

The Villain Of Any Story Is Often The Most Compelling Character.