Read Anything I Write For The Pleasure

When You Stop Doing Things For Fun You Might As Well Be Dead.

Why Should Anybody Be Interested In Some Old Man Who Was A Failure?

As To Hemingway, I Read Him For The First Time In The Early 'forties, Something About Bells, Balls And Bulls, And Loathed It.

I Had Gone To No Such Place But To The Smoke Of Cafes And Nights When The Room Whirled And You Needed To Look At The Wall To Make It Stop, Nights In Bed, Drunk, When You Knew That That Was All There Was, And The Strange Excitement Of Waking And Not Knowing Who It Was With You, And The World All Unreal In The Dark And So Exciting That You Must Resume Again Unknowing And Not Caring In The Night, Sure That This Was All And All And All And Not Caring.

Until You're Grown-up They Send You To Reform School. After You're Grown-up They Send You To The Penitentiary.