Sooner Or Later, All Games Become Serious.

The Enormous Energy Of The Twentieth Century, Enough To Drive The Planet Into A New Orbit Around A Happier Star, Was Being Expended To Maintain This Immense Motionless Pause.

If You Can Smell Garlic, Everything Is All Right.

In A Completely Sane World, Madness Is The Only Freedom.

Writing A Novel Is One Of Those Modern Rites Of Passage, I Think, That Lead Us From An Innocent World Of Contentment, Drunkenness, And Good Humor, To A State Of Chronic Edginess And The Perpetual Scanning Of Bank Statements.

People Will Begin To Explore All The Sidestreets Of Sexual Experience, But They Will Do It Intellectually. . . . Sex Won't Take Place In The Bed, Necessarily--it'll Take Place In The Head!