He Had A Habit Of

When I Get Through Tearing A Lobster Apart, Or One Of Those Tender West Coast Octopuses, I Feel Like I Had A Drink From The Fountain Of Youth.

All Information Of A Spiritual Or Personal Nature Will Have To Come From Our Father, Who Art In Heaven, And I Think He's In New York Right Now.

The Best Talk Is Artless, The Talk Of People Trying To Reassure Or Comfort Themselves, Women In The Sun, Grouped Around Baby Carriages, Talking About Their Weeks In The Hospital Or The Way Meat Has Gone Up, Or Men In Saloons, Talking To Combat The Loneliness Everyone Feels.

My Dad Was A Cotton Buyer And Cotton Buyers Always Considered Themselves Superior To The Rest Of The World.

...you Can Hate A Place With All Your Heart And Soul And Still Be Homesick For It.