Publishers Are Thieves, They Are On The

One Never Took The Time To Savour The Details; One Said: Another Day, But Always With The Hidden Knowledge That Each Day Was Unique And Fatal, That There Never Would Be A Return, Another Time.

Everyone Is Isolated From Everyone Else. The Concept Of Society Is Like A Cushion To Protect Us From The Knowledge Of That Isolation. A Fiction That Serves As An Anesthetic.

No One Can Ever Heap Enough Insults Upon Me To Suit My Taste. I Think We All Really Thrive On Hostility, Because It's The Most Intense Kind Of Massage The Ego Can Undergo. Other People's Indifference Is The Only Horror.

Life Is Lived Only Once. And The Less Seriously The Better.

We've Never Managed, Either One Of Us, To Get All The Way Into Life. We're Hanging On To The Outside For All We're Worth, Convinced We're Going To Fall Off At The Next Bump.