I Leave Shreds Of My Soul On

One Day You And I Will Have To Have A Little Talk About This Business Called Love. I Still Don't Understand What It's All About. My Guess Is That It's Just A Gigantic Hoax, Invented To Keep People Quiet And Diverted. Everyone Talks About Love: The Priests, The Advertising Posters, The Literati, And The Politicians, Those Of Them Who Make Love. And In Speaking Of Love And Offering It As A Panacea For Every Tragedy, They Would And Betray And Kill Both Body And Soul.

Henry Kissinger May Have Wished I Had Presented Him As A Combination Of Charles Degaulle And Disraeli, But I Didn't....out Of Respect For Degaulle And Disraeli. I Described Him As A Cowboy Because That Is How He Describes Himself. If I Were A Cowboy I Would Be Offended.

Journalism Is An Extraordinary And Terrible Privilege. Not By Chance, If You Are Aware Of It, Does It Consume You With A Hundred Feelings Of Inadequacy. Not By Chance, When I Find Myself Going Through An Event Or An Important Encounter, Does It Seize Me Like Anguish, A Fear Of Not Having Enough Eyes And Enough Ears And Enough Brains To Look And Listen And Understand Like A Worm Hidden In The Wood Of History.

What's The Point Anyway - Of Suffering, Dying? It Teaches Us To Live, Boy. A Man Who Does Not Struggle Does Not Live, He Survives.

I Have Reached The Conclusion That Those Who Have Physical Courage Also Have Moral Courage. Physical Courage Is A Great Test.