The Circus Is The Only Fun You

Poor Faulkner. Does He Really Think Big Emotions Come From Big Words?

In Going Where You Have To Go, And Doing What You Have To Do, And Seeing What You Have To See, You'll Dull And Blunt The Instrument You Write With. But I Would Rather Have It Bent And Dull And Know I Had To Put It To The Grindstone Again And Hammer It Into Shape And Put A Whetstone To It, And Know That I Had Something To Write About, Than To Have It Bright And Shining And Nothing To Say, Or Smooth And Well-oiled In The Closet, But Unused.

Go All The Way With It. Do Not Back Off. For Once, Go All The Goddamn Way With What Matters.

Prose Is Architecture, Not Interior Decoration, And The Baroque Is Over.

My,' She Said. 'we're Lucky That You Found The Place.' We're Always Lucky,' I Said And Like A Fool I Did Not Knock On Wood. There Was Wood Everywhere In That Apartment To Knock On Too.