People Do Not Choose A Career; The

Life Is To Be Used, Not Just Held In The Hand Like A Box Of Bonbons That Nobody Eats.

Man Seems To Be An Animal Whose Capacity For Lies Is Only Equalled By His Credulity; It Does No Good To Let Battalions Of Cats Outof Bags, To Produce Whole Harems Of Naked Facts, People Eat The Same Three Meals Daily Deception, And Are Always Ready To Turn With Fury Upon The Purveyors Of Bagless Cats And Facts Undraped. Probably Their Instinct Is Wise. Who Knows?

A Man's Got To Work For More Than Himself And His Kids To Feel Right

If There Is A Special Hades For Writers Is Would Be In The Forced Contemplation Of Their Own Works.

Walt Whitman's A Hell Of A Lot More Revolutionary Than Any Russian Poet I've Ever Heard Of.