I Am Dead. I Have No Desire

A Writer Is A Foreign Country

In Love There Are No Vacations. No Such Thing. Love Has To Be Lived Fully With Its Boredom And All That.

No Other Human Being, No Woman, No Poem Or Music, Book Or Painting Can Replace Alcohol In Its Power To Give Man The Illusion Of Real Creation.

He Wanted To Pay Her; He Thought Women Ought To Be Paid For Keeping Men From Dying Or Going Out Of Their Minds.

Very Early In My Life It Was Too Late.