I Think Writers Like Old Cities And

The Best Way To Live Is By Not Knowing What Will Happen To You At The End Of The Day.

Succeed! It Has Been Done, And With A Stupidity That Can Astound The Most Experienced.

--why Are We Fighting Them? --they're Mad. We're Sane. --how Do We Know? --that We're Sane? --yes. --am I Sane? --to All Appearances. --and You, Do You Consider Yourself Sane? --i Do. --well, There You Have It. --but Don't They Also Consider Themselves Sane? --i Think They Know. Deep Down. That They're Not Sane. --how Must That Make Them Feel? --terrible, I Should Think. They Must Fight Ever More Fiercely, In Order To Deny What They Know To Be True. That They Are Not Sane.

I Am Never Needlessly Obscure - I Am Needfully Obscure, When I Am Obscure.

Art Is Not Difficult Because It Wishes To Be Difficult, Rather Because It Wishes To Be Art. However Much The Writer Might Long To Be Straightforward, These Virtues Are No Longer Available To Him. He Discovers That In Being Simple, Honest, Straightforward, Nothing Much Happens.