Ask Your Child What He

When I Started Publishing, I Got Offers To Write For Big Magazines. But I Would Always Say, "well, It's Not That I Don't Want To Write For These Big Magazines, But You Can't Edit It."

I Never Wanted To Have Any Extra Money, If It Meant Having To Have Any Extra Work.

What Do They Do In These [private] Clubs, Anyway? Sit Around Saying Things Like 'thank God I'm Here. No Jews! What Fun! This Is Living, Huh? Look! No Jews! I Don't Know When I've Had A Better Time. And No Women! Just Men! And No Blacks! Just Whites! White Men! White Men Who Are Not Jewish! It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This.' To Some People, Apparently, This Is A Perfect Description Of Injustice. To Me, This Is A Perfect Description Of A Gay Bar In Iceland.

Generally Speaking, The Poorer Person Summers Where He Winters.

I Have A Real Aversion To Machines. I Write With A Pen. Then I Read It To Someone Who Writes It Onto The Computer. What Are Those Computer Letters Made Of Anyway? Light? Too Insubstantial. Paper, You Can Feel It. A Pen. There's A Connection. A Pen Goes Exactly At Your Speed, Whereas That Machine Jumps. And Then, That Machine Is Waiting For You, Just Humming "uh-huh, Yes?