No Heart Is So Hard As The

We Live In A Time Which Has Created The Art Of The Absurd. It Is Our Art. It Contains Happenings, Pop Art, Camp, A Theater Of The Absurd... Do We Have The Art Because The Absurd Is The Patina Of Waste...? Or Are We Face To Face With A Desperate Or Most Rational Effort From The Deepest Resources Of The Unconscious Of Us All To Rescue Civilization From The Pit And Plague Of Its Bedding?

Goldstein, You'd Be A Pretty Good Boy If You Wasn't So Chicken.

Writing Books Is The Closest Men Ever Come To Childbearing.

We Have An Absolute Right In A Democracy To Argue About A War.

Over The Years, I've Found One Rule. It Is The Only One I Give On Those Occasions When I Talk About Writing. A Simple Rule. If You Tell Yourself You Are Going To Be At Your Desk Tomorrow, You Are By That Declaration Asking Your Unconscious To Prepare The Material. You Are, In Effect, Contracting To Pick Up Such Valuables At A Given Time. Count On Me, You Are Saying To A Few Forces Below: I Will Be There To Write.