Teaching, Real Teaching, Is - Or Ought

I Believe Some People Are Just Too Damn Smart To Write Fiction.

I Am Not Perfect." It Came Out In A Rush Of Breath. "see I Thought I Was. Thank God I Ain't. See A Perfect Thing Ain't Got A Chance. The World Kills It, Everything Perfect. (listen To Him!) Now See A Thing That Ain't Perfect, It Grows Like A Weed. Yeah, Like A Weed! A Thing That Ain't Perfect Gets Hand Clapping, Smiles, Takes The Wire An Easy Winner. But The World Ain't Set Up Right If You Perfect. You Lible To Run Right Into A Brick Wall. Looks Like Suicide. All The Weeds Say, Looka There, It Suicide!

If You Wait Until You Got Time To Write A Novel, Or Time To Write A Story, Or Time To Read The Hundred Thousands Of Books You Should Have Already Read - If You Wait For The Time, You Will Never Do It. ‘cause There Ain’t No Time; World Don’t Want You To Do That. World Wants You To Go To The Zoo And Eat Cotton Candy, Preferably Seven Days A Week.

The Artist Lives In An Atmosphere Of Perpetual Failure.

Teaching, Real Teaching, Is - Or Ought To Be - A Messy Business.