Sooner Or Later, All Games Become Serious.

A Ton Of Proust Isn’t Worth An Ounce Of Ray Bradbury.

I Wanted To Rub The Human Race In Its Own Vomit, And Force It To Look In The Mirror.

Elaborate Burial Customs Are A Sure Sign Of Decadence.

Most Writers Flinch At The Thought Of Being Completely Honest About Themselves. So Absolute Honesty Is What Marks The True Modern.

I Define Inner Space As An Imaginary Realm In Which On The One Hand The Outer World Of Reality, And On The Other The Inner World Of The Mind Meet And Merge. Now, In The Landscapes Of The Surrealist Painters, For Example, One Sees The Regions Of Inner Space; And Increasingly I Believe That We Will Encounter In Film And Literature Scenes Which Are Neither Solely Realistic Nor Fantastic. In A Sense, It Will Be A Movement In The Interzone Between Both Spheres.