An Author Arrives At A

The Reward Of Art Is Not Fame Or Success But Intoxication.

The Shock, For An Intelligent Writer, Of Discovering For The First Time That There Are People Younger Than Himself Who Think Him Stupid Is Severe.

Purity Engenders Wisdom, Passion Avarice, And Ignorance Folly, Infatuation And Darkness.

Peace ... Is A Morbid Condition, Due To A Surplus Of Civilians, Which War Seeks To Remedy.

Approaching Forty, I Had A Singular Dream In Which I Almost Grasped The Meaning And Understood The Nature Of What It Is That Wastes In Wasted Time.