The Internet Is 95 Percent Porn And

I Don't Want To Look At Something That Determines Me So Completely.

About No Subject Are Poets Tempted To Lie So Much As About Their Own Lives.

I Could End This With A Moral, As If This Were A Fable About Animals, Though No Fables Are Really About Animals.

The Object Is Very Clear In The Fight Against Racism; You Have Reasons Why You're Opposed To It. But When You're Writing A Novel, You Don't Want The Reader To Come Out Of It Voting Yes Or No To Some Question. Life Is More Complicated Than That.

Which Of Us Can Resist The Temptation Of Being Thought Indispensable?