Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am.

The Only Real Failure Is Trying To Second-guess The Taste Of An Audience. Nothing Comes Out Of That Except A Kind Of Inward Humiliation.

I Was Always Accused Of Being Cold And Unfeeling. It Was Because I Was Intimidated About Touching People.

I'm A Phallus In Pigtails, And There's Blood On My Nose, And My Tissue Is Rotting Where The Rats Chew My Bones. And My Eye Sockets Empty, See Nothing But Pain, I Keep Having This Brainstorm About Twelve Times A Day.

Some Of Us, I Think, Us Small, Pompous Arty Ones Probably Read Too Much George Steiner And Kind Of Got The Idea That We Were Entering To This Kind Of Post-culture Age And That We'd Better Do Something Postmodernist - Quickly, Before Somebody Else Did.

I'm Not Sure Whether It Is Me Changing My Mind, Or Whether I Lie A Lot.