Why Had I Become A Writer In

Writers Must Fortify Themselves With Pride And Egotism As Best They Can. The Process Is Analogous To Using Sandbags And Loose Timbers To Protect A House Against Flood. Writers Are Vulnerable Creatures Like Anyone Else. For What Do They Have In Reality? Not Sandbags, Not Timbers. Just A Flimsy Reputation And A Name.

All Over The World There Must Be Far-reaching Changes In Animal Behavior And Habitat; If Only One Could Have Another Life In Which To Chart It All... Ah, Well, That's Not A Fruitful Thing To Wish, Is It?

When Childhood Dies, Its Corpses Are Called Adults.

Relax, Enjoy Yourself. Have Another Drink. It's Patriotic To Overconsume.

Civilization Is The Distance Man Has Placed Between Himself And His Excreta.