The Bottom Line Is That I Like

She'd Risked Everything, And Here Was The Result: The Raw, Warped Core Of Her Life.

Nineteen Eighty Is Almost Here, Thank God. The Hippies Are Getting Old, They Blew Their Brains On Acid And Now They're Begging On Street Corners All Over San Francisco. Their Hair Is Tangled And Their Bare Feet Are Thick And Gray As Shoes. We're Sick Of Them.

And For An Instant He Would Remember Naples: Sitting With Sasha In Her Tiny Room; The Jolt Of Surprise And Delight He'd Felt When The Sun Finally Dropped Into The Center Of Her Window And Was Captured Inside Her Circle Of Wire. Now He Turned To Her, Grinning. Her Hair And Face Were Aflame With Orange Light. "see," Sasha Muttered, Eyeing The Sun. "it's Mine.

Real Computers Scared Me; If You Can Find Them, Then They Can Find You.

I Don't Really Know Where My Ideas Come From. I Start With A Time And A Place. That's What I Need To Get Started, And An Intellectual Question.