Why The Egyptian, Arabic, Abyssinian, Choctaw? Well,

For About 150 Days A Year In Venice, The Sun Doesn't Show Through The Mist Until Noon.

And The Odd Think In Dad's Voice Was The Sound Truth Makes Being Said.

Fame And Money Are Gifts Given To Us Only After We Have Gifted The World With Our Best, Our Lonely, Our Individual Truths.

My Personal Telephone Book Is A Book Of The Dead Now. I'm So Old. Almost All Of My Friends Have Died, And I Don't Have The Guts To Take Their Names Out Of The Book.

Everything Of Mine Is Permeated With My Love Of Ideas-both Big And Small. It Doesn't Matter What It Is, As Long As It Grabs Me And Holds Me, Facinates Me. And Then I'll Run Out And Something About It... I Write For Fun.