I Guess When You Turn Off The

He Understood Well Enough How A Man With A Choice Between Pride And Responsibility Will Almost Always Choose Pride--if Responsibility Robs Him Of His Manhood.

The Thing Under My Bed Waiting To Grab My Ankle Isn't Real. I Know That, And I Also Know That If I'm Careful To Keep My Foot Under The Covers, It Will Never Be Able To Grab My Ankle.

The First Real Terror Struck Him Then, And There Was Nothing Supernatural About It. It Was Only A Realization Of How Easy It Was To Trash Your Life. That Was What Was So Scary. You Just Dragged The Fan Up To Everything You Had Spent The Years Raking Together And Turned The Motherfucker On.

He Would Write It For The Reason He Felt That All Great Literature, Fiction And Nonfiction, Was Written: Truth Comes Out, In The End It Always Comes Out. He Would Write It Because He Felt He Had To.

I've Taken Off Two Months, Three Months At A Time, And, By The End, I Get Really Squirrelly. My Night Life, My Dream Life, Gets Extremely Populated And Crazed.