His Lies Were So Exquisite I Almost

The Air Is Like Being Wanted, We Say, And They Nod Approvingly. The Air Is Like Getting Older, They Say, And They Touch Our Arms Gently.

I See Colors Like You Hear Jet Planes.

It's Not That Our Family Has No Taste, It's Just That Our Family's Taste Is Inconsistent.

Good Artists Exist In What They Make, And Consequently Are Perfectly Uninteresting In What They Are.

I Worked At Magazines For Over 10 Years Before I Even Thought Of Writing A Book.