It Seems Strange That My

American Love — Like Coke In Green Glass Bottles...they Don't Make It Anymore.

Nothing Is Insoluble. Nothing Is Hopeless. Not While There's Life.

People Have Asked Me Why I Made The First Chapter Of My First Novel So Long, And In An Invented English. The Only Answer I Can Come Up With That Satisfies Me Is, 'to Keep Out The Scum.'

When I Hear Alcoholics Talk About Having Their Demons, I Think That They're Probably Absolutely Literally Correct.

There's No Flesh Or Blood Within This Cloak To Kill. There's Only An Idea. Ideas Are Bulletproof.