I Prefer My Oysters Fried; That Way

I Think A Writer Is Not An Ideal Husband... Writers Tend To Get Off Into Their Own Heads And Not Notice The People That They're Living With, Or They Get Irritable With The People That They're Living With When The People Insist On Being Noticed.

Usage Ain't Always A Matter Of Ought.

Twiddle-twiddle Away At My Softly Clicky Keyboard For A While, Making Twiddly Adjustments All Along- And Then Print What I Have Twiddled. Glare At The Printout And Snarl And Curse And Scribble Almost Illegibly All Over It With A Ballpoint Pen. Go Back To The Machine And Enter The Scribbles. Repeat This Procedure Until I Hate The Very Meaning Of Every Word I Know.

Any Given Generation Gives The Next Generation Advice That The Given Generation Should Have Been Given By The Previous Generation But Now It's Too Late.

Contemporary American Children, If They Are Old Enough To Grasp The Concept Of Santa Claus By Thanksgiving, Are Able To See Through It By December 15th.