Lucky Is The Man Who Does Not

My Mother Refused To Let Me Fail. So I Insisted.

Fiction Doesn’t Tell Us Something We Don’t Know, It Tells Us Something We Know But Don’t Know That We Know.

I Sometimes Think Novelists Write About Sex In Order To Avoid Boring Themselves To Death.

The So-called Sexual Revolution Is Not, As Advertised, A Liberation Of Sexual Behavior But Rather Its Reversal. In Former Days, Even Under Victoria, Sexual Intercourse Was The Natural End And Culmination Of Heterosexual Relations. Now One Begins With Genital Overtures Instead Of A Handshake, Then Waits To See What Will Turn Up (e.g., Might Become Friends Later). Like Dogs Greeting Each Other Nose To Tail And Tail To Nose.

Before, I Wandered As A Diversion. Now I Wander Seriously And Sit And Read As A Diversion.