It Is Enough That One

I Am Going To Outlive Myself. Eat, Sleep, Sleep, Eat. Exist Slowly, Softly, Like These Trees, Like A Puddle Of Water, Like The Red Bench In The Streetcar.

Who Can Exhaust A Man? Who Knows A Man's Resources?

As Long As The Writer Cannot Write For The Two Billion Men Who Are Hungry, He Will Be Oppressed By A Feeling Of Malaise.

If You Are Lonely When You're Alone, You Are In Bad Company.

Man's Existence Precedes His Essence