People Can Be So Heartless And Dirty.

I Think That Any Time A Person Comes Face-to-face With Their Own Mortality - Close Enough To Death That They Can Smell Its Breath - They Have A Choice: 1) Fall To Pieces; 2) Reassemble Yourself And Keep Walking.

I'm Still An Obsessive Personality, And I Still Think I'm Right, And I Still Believe My Literary Balls Hang Far Lower Than Nearly Anyone Else's Alive.

Hatred Is The Air I Breathe. It Permeates Every Cell In My Body.

I Don't Think Fatherhood's Changed Me So Much As It's Conjured Protective Instincts I've Had All Along.

Nowadays, You Suffer The Same Risks - Ostracism, Career Loss, Possible Assault - For Being Perceived As Racist That You Would Have Encountered A Century Ago For Daring To Question Racist Ideology.