I Just Write When Fear Overtakes Me.

I Have A Real Aversion To Machines. I Write With A Pen. Then I Read It To Someone Who Writes It Onto The Computer. What Are Those Computer Letters Made Of Anyway? Light? Too Insubstantial. Paper, You Can Feel It. A Pen. There's A Connection. A Pen Goes Exactly At Your Speed, Whereas That Machine Jumps. And Then, That Machine Is Waiting For You, Just Humming "uh-huh, Yes?

I'm Not A Communist. I'm An American. I'm A Capitalist. I Mean, I'm Not A Very Good Capitalist, Myself. I'm Not Very Good At It, But It's Not That I'm Not For Capitalism. But People Who Believe In Things Like Corporate Citizenship, It's Idiotic. I Mean, It Shows You're An Idiot.

New York City Is Filled With The Same Kind Of People I Left New Jersey To Get Away From.

Smoking Is, If Not My Life, Then At Least My Hobby. I Love To Smoke. Smoking Is Fun. Smoking Is Cool. Smoking Is, As Far As I Am Concerned, The Entire Point Of Being An Adult.

I Hate Writing. I Will Do Anything To Avoid It. The Only Way I Could Write Less Was If I Was Dead.