You Lose Your Immortality When You Lose

It Is A Singular Reaction, This Sitting Still And Writing, Writing, Writing, Or Ruminating At Length, Which Is Much The Same, Really.

I Don't Read Reviews About Myself With Any Special Eagerness Or Attention Unless They Are Masterpieces Of Wit And Acumen, And I Never Reread Them.

It's A Pity One Can't Imagine What One Can't Compare To Anything. Genius Is An African Who Dreams Up Snow.

Dear Jesus, Do Something.

By God, I Could Make Myself Bring Her That Economically Halved Grapefruit, That Sugarless Breakfast.