I See Journalists As The Manual Workers,

A Woman's Work, From The Time She Gets Up To The Time She Goes To Bed, Is As Hard As A Day At War, Worse Than A Man's Working Day. ... To Men, Women's Work Was Like The Rain-bringing Clouds, Or The Rain Itself. The Task Involved Was Carried Out Every Day As Regularly As Sleep. So Men Were Happy - Men In The Middle Ages, Men At The Time Of The Revolution, And Men In 1986: Everything In The Garden Was Lovely.

Madness Is Like Intelligence, You Know. You Can't Explain It. Just Like Intelligence. It Comes On You, It Fills You, And Then You Understand It. But When It Goes Away You Can't Understand It At All Any Longer.

In Homosexual Love The Passion Is Homosexuality Itself. What A Homosexual Loves, As If It Were His Lover, His Country, His Art, His Land, Is Homosexuality.

She Represents The Un-vowed Aspiration Of The Male Human Being, His Potential Infidelity - And Infidelity Of A Very Special Kind, Which Would Lead Him To The Opposite Of His Wife, To The Woman Of Wax Whom He Could Model At Will, Make And Unmake In Any Way He Wished, Even Unto Death.

To Love One Child And To Love All Children, Whether Living Or Dead -somewhere These Two Loves Come Together. To Love A No-good But Humble Punk And To Love An Honest Man Who Believes Himself To Be An Honest Man -somewhere These, Too, Come Together.