Writers Do Not Come Out Of Houses

One Certainty We All Accept Is The Condition Of Being Uncertain And Insecure.

Hitler Admired Stalin, Quite Properly Seeing Himself As A Mere Infant In Crime Compared To His Great Exemplar.

My Mother Died Happily Of A Stroke In Her Seventies.

I Treasure Solitude. One Doesn't Have To Have Human Contact.

You Simply Don't Get To Be Wise, Mature, Etc., Unless You've Been A Raving Cannibal For Thirty Years Or So.