In Order To Write A Book, It

So I Lived Alone. The First Thing I Did Was Take Off My Pants. Naturally.

I Suppose Each Of Us Has His Own Fantasy Of How He Wants To Die. I Would Like To Go Out In A Blaze Of Glory, Myself, Or Maybe Simply Disappear Someday, Far Out In The Heart Of The Wilderness I Love, All By Myself, Alone With The Universe And Whatever God May Happen To Be Looking On. Disappear - And Never Return. That's My Fantasy.

Of All Bores, The Worst Is The Sparkling Bore.

As War And Government Prove, Insanity Is The Most Contagious Of Diseases.

James Joyce Buried Himself In His Great Work. _finnegan's Wake_ Is His Monument And His Tombstone. A Dead End.