I Think Of Myself As A Stylist,

Oh, I Adore To Cook. It Makes Me Feel So Mindless In A Worthwhile Way.

I Am A Completely Horizontal Author. I Can't Think Unless I'm Lying Down, Either In Bed Or Stretched On A Couch.

When The Prisoner Is Brought Down From Death Row He Steps From The Elevator Directly Into A "holding" Room That Adjoins The Witness Room. There Are Two Cells In This "holding" Room, Two, In Case It's A Double Execution. They're Ordinary Cells, Just Like This One, And The Prisoner Spends His Last Night There Before His Execu­tion In The Morning, Reading, Listening To The Radio, Playing Cards With The Guards.

We Don't Belong To Each Other: He's An Independent, And So Am I.

Clocks Indeed Must Have Their Sacrifice: What Is Death But An Offering To Time And Eternity?