I'll Tell You A Secret. We Live

I See A Lot Of Fog And A Few Lights. I Like It When Life's Hidden. It Gives You A Chance To Imagine Nice Things, Nicer Than They Are.

Love's The Only Thing I've Thought Of Or Read About Since I Was Knee-high. That's What I Always Dreamed Of, Of Meeting Somebody And Falling In Love. And When That Remarkable Thing Happened, I Was Going To Recite Poetry To Her For Hours About How Her Heart's An Angel's Wing And Her Hair The Strings Of A Heavenly Harp. Instead I Got Drunk And Hollered At Her And Called Her A Harpy.

Socially, A Journalist Ranks Somewhere Between The Madam Of A Whorehouse And A Bartender. But Spiritually He Ranks With Galileo, For He Knows The World Is Round.

The Rule In The Art World Is: You Cater To The Masses Or You Kowtow To The Elite; You Can't Have Both.

Out Of The Thousand Writers Huffing And Puffing Through Movieland There Are Scarcely Fifty Men And Women Of Wit Or Talent. The Rest Of The Fraternity Is Deadwood. Yet, In A Curious Way, There Is Not Much Difference Between The Product Of A Good Writer And A Bad One. They Both Have To Toe The Same Mark.