If You Tell A Novelist,

The Breath That Sharpens Life Is Life Itself.

Uncontradicting Solitude Supports Me On Its Giant Palm; And Like A Sea-anemone Or Simple Snail, There Cautiously Unfolds, Emerges, What I Am.

They Say Eyes Clear With Age.

Clearly Money Has Something To Do With Life.

When I Get Sent Manuscripts From Aspiring Poets, I Do One Of Two Things: If There Is No Stamped Self-addressed Envelope, I Throw It Into The Bin.-if There Is, I Write And Tell Them To F**k Off.