Time Is The Only Critic.

New York Is Not Even A City, It's A Congerie Of Rotten Villages.

I Write Of The Wish That Comes True--for Some Reason, A Terrifying Thought.

A Gun Is Like Breath To A Drowning Man--it Has To Be Drawn In Haste.

A Guitar Has Moonlight In It.

You Have To Wait For Your Mind To Catch Up With Whatever It Is It’s Working On; Then You Can Write A Novel.