A Writer Of Books Has To Admit

The Philosophical Conservative Is Someone Willing To Pay The Price Of Other People S Suffering For His Principles.

I Am Led To The Proposition That There Is No Fiction Or Nonfiction As We Commonly Understand The Distinction: There Is Only Narrative.

I Thought Of Myself As A Writer For Years Before I Got Around To Writing Anything.

Writing Is A Socially Acceptable Form Of Schizophrenia.

I Knew He Was Unreliable, But He Was Fun To Be With. He Was A Child’s Ideal Companion, Full Of Surprises And Happy Animal Energy. He Enjoyed Food And Drink. He Liked To Try New Things. He Brought Home Coconuts, Papayas, Mangoes, And Urged Them On Our Reluctant Conservative Selves. On Sundays He Liked To Discover New Places, Take Us On Endless Bus Or Trolley Rides To Some New Park Or Beach He Knew About. He Always Counseled Daring, In Whatever Situation, The Courage To Test The Unknown, An Instruction That Was Thematically In Opposition To My Mother’s.