I Prefer To Underwrite. Simple, Clear As

But I'm Not A Saint Yet. I'm An Alcoholic. I'm A Drug Addict. I'm Homosexual. I'm A Genius.

You Got To Want It To Be Good, And I Don't Want It.

Here Is A Hall Without Exit, A Tunnel Without End.

The Instant She Saw The Letter She Squinted Her Eyes And Bent Her Lips In A Tough Tiny Smile That Advanced Her Age Immeasurably. "darling," She Instructed Me, "would You Reach In The Drawer There And Give Me My Purse. A Girl Doesn't Read This Sort Of Thing Without Her Lipstick.

I'm Scarcely An Enfant!