I Want A Dish To Taste Good,

Work Was Like Cats Were Supposed To Be: If You Disliked And Feared It And Tried To Keep Out If Its Way, It Knew At Once And Sought You Out And Jumped On Your Lap And Climbed All Over You To Show How Much It Loved You. Please God, He Thought, Don't Let Me Die In Harness.

Now And Then I Become Conscious Of Having The Reputation Of Being One Of The Great Drinkers, If Not One Of The Great Drunks, Of Our Time.

The World That Seemed So Various And New, Well, It Does Contract. One's Burning Desire To Investigate Human Behavior, And To Make, Or Imply, Statements About It, Does Fall Off. And So One Does Find That Early Works Are Full Of Energy And Also Full Of Vulgarity, Crudity, And Incompetence, And Later Works Are More Carefully Finished, And In That Sense Better Literary Products. But . . . There's Often A Freshness That Is Missing In Later Works--for Every Gain There's A Loss. I Think It Evens Out In That Way.

Never Despise A Drink Because It Is Easy To Make And/or Uses Commercial Mixes. Unquestioning Devotion To Authenticity Is, In Any Department Of Life, A Mark Of The Naive - Or Worse.

Laziness Has Become The Chief Characteristic Of Journalism, Displacing Incompetence.