To A Southerner It Is Faux Pas,

Americans Are So Emotionally Fragile That Soon We Will Have To Be Carried Around In Plastic Bubbles And Fed With An Eye-dropper.

I Cherish The Review-as-literature; As Lapidary Journalism In The Eighteenth-century Mode, The Last Hard Sparkling Diamond In Theessayists's Tarnished Crown. To Me, Writing A Good Review Is Not Just A Way To Make Extra Money, But A Sacred Duty.

Insecurity Breeds Treachery: If You Are Kind To People Who Hate Themselves, They Will Hate You As Well.

Each Time A Mediocre Singer Performs, He Is Saying, In Effect, "this Is Good Enough For You." The Audience, Thrust Into That Familiar American Mood Of Knowing Something Is Wrong But Not Knowing What It Is, Unconsciously Absorbs The Insult And Projects It Back Onto The Mediocre Performer In The Form Of Inattention, Rudeness And Noise.

My Object Is To Live In A Place That Does Not Call Itself 'the Community With A Heart.' I Want One Of Those Godforsaken Towns Where All The Young People Leave And The Rest Sit On The Porch With A Rifle Across Their Knees.