I Like To Eat Crawfish And Drink

Life Is Fits And Starts, Mostly Fits.

As For Hobbies, People With Stimulating Hobbies Suffer From The Most Noxious Of Despairs Since They Are Tranquilized In Their Despair.

The Mystery Lies In The Here And Now. The Mystery Is: What Is One To Do With Oneself? As You Get Older You Begin To Realize The Trick Time Is Playing, And That Unless You Do Something About It, The Passage Of Time Is Nothing But The Encroachment Of The Horrible Banality Of The Past On The Pure Future. The Past Devours The Future Like A Tape Recorder, Converting Pure Possibility Into Banality. The Present Is The Tape Head, The Mouth Of Time. Then Where Is The Mystery And Why Bother Kicking Through The Ashes? Because There Is A Clue In The Past.

Why Has The South Produced So Many Good Writers? Because We Got Beat.

I Don't Like To Be Described As A Southern Writer. The Danger Is, If You're Described As A Southern Writer, You Might Be Thought Of As Someone Who Writes About A Picturesque Local Scene Like Uncle Tom's Cabin, Gone With The Wind, Something Like That.