The Hand That Holds The Money Cracks

They Threw Me Off The Haytruck About Noon.

I Loved Her Like A Rabbit Loves A Rattlesnake

I Write Of The Wish That Comes True--for Some Reason, A Terrifying Thought.

A Home Is Not A Museum. It Doesn't Have To Be Furnished With Picasso Paintings, Or Sheraton Suites, Or Oriental Rugs, Or Chinese Pottery. But It Does Have To Be Furnished With Things That Mean Something To You.

If You Can't Write Like New York, You Have No Business Living In New York And Making New York The Locale Of Your Stories.