I'm World-famous ... All Over Canada.

My Enduring Feeling About René Lévesque Is That If He Had Chosen To Hang Me, Even As He Tightened The Rope Round My Neck, He Would Have Complained About How Humiliating It Was For Him To Spring The Trapdoor. And Then, Once I Was Swinging In The Wind, He Would Blame My Ghost For Having Obliged Him To Murder, Thereby Imposing A Guilt Trip On A Sweet, Self-effacing, Downtrodden Francophone.

A Boy Can Be Two, Three, Four Potential People, But A Man Is Only One. He Murders The Others.

It Is No More Expected Of Most Producers To Read A Book Than It Is, Say, Of Ted Williams To Dust Off Home Plate.

This Is An Age Of Scientific Wonders. You Miss Somebody So You Pick Up The Phone To Say Hello. Three Minutes For Sixty-five Cents. Nobody Goes Broke.

I'm Criticized By The Feminists, By The Jewish Establishment, By Canadian Nationalists. And Why Not? I've Had My Pot Shots At Them. I'm Fair Game.