When The Plot Flags, Bring In A

She Bent Over Me Again. Blood Began To Move Around In Me, Like A Prospective Tenant Looking Over A House.

There Are People Who Can Write Their Memoirs With A Reasonable Amount Of Honesty, And There Are People Who Simply Cannot Take Themselves Seriously Enough. I Think I Might Be The First To Admit That The Sort Of Reticence Which Prevents A Man From Exploiting His Own Personality Is Really An Inverted Sort Of Egotism.

I Suppose All Writers Are Crazy, But If They Are Any Good, I Believe They Have A Terrible Honesty.

I'm In A Wild Mood Tonight. I Want To Go Dance In The Foam. I Hear The Banshees Calling.

California, The Department-store State. The Most Of Everything And The Best Of Nothing.