Literature Is Greater Than Any Of Us,

As Long As You Live, You Hope. You Think That Everything Will Just...get Better.

...the Only Way To Prove You Are Normal Is To Smash Someone's Face In

I Sat Day After Day In My Little Room, Waiting For Inspiration To Visit Me, Trying To Invent A Pseudonym That Would Express, In A Combination Of Noble And Striking Sounds, Our Dream Of Artistic Achievement, A Pen Name Grand Enough To Compensate For My Own Feeling Of Insecurity And Helplessness At The Idea Of Everything My Mother Expected From Me.

I See History As A Relay Race In Which One Of Us, Before Dropping In His Tracks, Must Carry One Stage Further The Challenge Of Being A Man.

They Thought I Suffered From Lack Of Exterior, When I Suffered From Excess Of Interior