The Days Are Stacked Against What We

I Can Maintain My Sense Of The Sacredness Of Existence Only By Understanding My Own Limitations And Losing My Self-importance.

Strangely, When I Totally Emerged From This Slump I Couldn't Comprehend How I Had Almost Drowned It It.

The Fact Is, The Media Never Gets Off The Interstate Unless There's A Major Explosion.

I Was A Dog On A Short Chain / And Now There's No Chain.

I Like Grit, I Like Love And Death, I'm Tired Of Irony. ... A Lot Of Good Fiction Is Sentimental. ... The Novelist Who Refuses Sentiment Refuses The Full Spectrum Of Human Behavior, And Then He Just Dries Up. ... I Would Rather Give Full Vent To All Human Loves And Disappointments, And Take A Chance On Being Corny, Than Die A Smartass.