I Had Wanted To Say That My

There Is A Horrifying Loneliness At Work In This Time. No, Listen To Me. We Lived Six And Seven To A Room In Those Days, When I Was Still Among The Living. The City Streets Were Seas Of Humanity; And Now In These High Buildings Dim-witted Souls Hover In Luxurious Privacy, Gazing Through The Television Window At A Faraway World Of Kissing And Touching. It Is Bound To Produce Some Great Fund Of Common Knowledge, Some New Level Of Human Awareness, A Curious Skepticism, To Be So Alone.

When I Write Something, Every Word Of It Is Meant. I Can't Say It Enough.

If I Haven't Put That On A T-shirt, I'm Going To. Actually, I Really Don't Want To Write Anything That Can't Be Put On A T-shirt. Actually I'd Like To Write Only On T-shirts. Actually, I'd Like To Write Whole Novels On T-shirts. So You Guys Could Say, 'i'm Wearing Chapter 8 Of Lestat's New Book, That's My Favorite; Oh I See You're Wearing Chapter 6-

How Pathetic It Is To Describe These Things Which Can't Truly Be Described.

Oh, The Lies That I Have Told Myself And Others. I Knew It Yet I Didn't Know.