In A Completely Sane World, Madness Is

I Wanted To Rub The Human Race In Its Own Vomit, And Force It To Look In The Mirror.

In The Post-warhol Era A Single Gesture Such As Uncrossing One's Legs Will Have More Significance Than All The Pages In War And Peace.

Given That External Reality Is A Fiction, The Writer's Role Is Almost Superfluous. He Does Not Need To Invent The Fiction Because It Is Already There.

Trying To Exhaust Himself, Vaughan Devised An Endless Almanac Of Terrifying Wounds And Insane Collisions: The Lungs Of Elderly Men Punctured By Door-handles; The Chests Of Young Women Impaled On Steering-columns; The Cheek Of Handsome Youths Torn On The Chromium Latches Of Quarter-lights. To Vaughan, These Wounds Formed The Key To A New Sexuality, Born From A Perverse Technology. The Images Of These Wounds Hung In The Gallery Of His Mind, Like Exhibits In The Museum Of A Slaughterhouse.

Sooner Or Later, All Games Become Serious.