There's Nothing Sexier Than A Lapsed Catholic.

That’s One Of The Nice Things About Writing, Or Any Art; If The Thing’s Real, It Just Lives. All The Attendant Hoopla About It, The Success Over It Or The Critical Rejection—none Of That Really Matters. In The End, The Thing Will Survive Or Not On Its Own Merits. Not That Immortality Via Art Is Any Big Deal. Truffaut Died, And We All Felt Awful About It, And There Were The Appropriate Eulogies, And His Wonderful Films Live On. But It’s Not Much Help To Truffaut.

I Didn't Believe In Reincarnation In My Past Life, And I Still Don't.

If I Had My Life To Live Over, I Wish I Could Be A Great Pianist Or Something.

People Are Always Talking About The Dumbing Down Of The Country.

My Grandfather Had A Wonderful Funeral... On The Buffet Table There Was A Replica Of The Deceased In Potato Salad.