Standards Are Always Out Of

Books Are Not About Passing The Time. They're About Other Lives. Other Worlds.

It's The One Species I Wouldn't Mind Seeing Vanish From The Face Of The Earth. I Wish They Were Like The White Rhinosix Of Them Left In The Serengeti National Park, And All Males.

Kafka Could Never Have Written As He Did Had He Lived In A House. His Writing Is That Of Someone Whose Whole Life Was Spent In Apartments, With Lifts, Stairwells, Muffled Voices Behind Closed Doors, And Sounds Through Walls. Put Him In A Nice Detached Villa And He'd Never Have Written A Word.

Memories Are Not Shackles, Franklin, They Are Garlands.

I Can Walk. It's Just That I'm So Rich I Don't Need To.