Rushdie Is A Hostage.

The Genius Of Rock Music Is That It Matched The Cultural Hysteria Around It.

Every Sentence Has A Truth Waiting At The End Of It And The Writer Learns How To Know It When He Finally Gets There.

One Of My Earliest Memories As A Reader - I Don't Know How Old I Was, Quite Young - Was A Poem Of His, Called "fog," And I Remember The First Verse, "the Fog Comes / On Little Cat Feet".

In A Crisis The True Facts Are Whatever Other People Say They Are.

The Term Itself--my Life--is A Desperate Overstatement.