A Man Needs A Purpose For Real

The Writer, An Old Man With A White Moustache, Had Some Difficulty Getting Into Bed.

I Go About Looking At Horses And Cattle. They Eat Grass, Make Love, Work When They Have To, Bear Their Young. I Am Sick With Envy Of Them.

I Have Seldom Written A Story, Long Or Short, That I Did Not Have To Write And Rewrite. There Are Single Stories Of Mine That Have Taken Me Ten Or Twelve Years To Get Written.

If People Did Not Want Their Stories Told, It Would Be Better For Them To Keep Away From Me.

Everyone In The World Is Christ And They Are All Crucified.