He Walked Out Into The

Tragedy Was Foresworn, In Ritual Denial Of The Ripe Knowledge That We Are Drawing Away From One Another, That We Share Only One Thing, Share The Fear Of Belonging To Another, Or To Others, Or To God; Love Or Money, Tender Equated In Advertising And The World, Where Only Money Is Currency, And Under Dead Trees And Brittle Ornaments Prehensile Hands Exchange Forgeries Of What The Heart Dare Not Surrender.

There Is Nothing More Distressing Or Tiresome Than A Writer Standing In Front Of An Audience And Reading His Work.

If You Want To Make A Million You Don't Have To Understand Money, What You Have To Understand Is People's Fears About Money

...mementos Of This World, In Which The Things Worth Being Were So Easily Exchanged For The Things Worth Having.

That's What I Can't Stand. I Know I'll Bounce Back, And That's What I Can't Stand.