The Circus Is The Only Fun You

I Wonder What Your Idea Of Heaven Would Be — A Beautiful Vacuum Filled With Wealthy Monogamists. All Powerful And Members Of The Best Families All Drinking Themselves To Death. And Hell Would Probably An Ugly Vacuum Full Of Poor Polygamists Unable To Obtain Booze Or With Chronic Stomach Disorders That They Called Secret Sorrows.

A Writer Is Like A Gypsy. He Owes No Allegiance To Any Government. If He Is A Good Writer He Will Never Like Any Government He Lives Under. His Hand Should Be Against It And Its Hand Will Always Be Against Him.

The Only Kind Of Writing Is Rewriting.

There Is Nothing Else Than Now. There Is Neither Yesterday, Certainly, Nor Is There Any Tomorrow. How Old Must You Be Before You Know That? There Is Only Now, And If Now Is Only Two Days, Then Two Days Is Your Life And Everything In It Will Be In Proportion. This Is How You Live A Life In Two Days. And If You Stop Complaining And Asking For What You Never Will Get, You Will Have A Good Life. A Good Life Is Not Measured By Any Biblical Span.

This Is A Good Place," He Said. "there's A Lot Of Liquor," I Agreed.