My Wanting To Write Books

My Life Is A Discipline, A Prison: I Live For My Own Work, Without Which I Am Nothing.

Tomorrow Is Another Day Toward Death.

August Rain: The Best Of The Summer Gone, And The New Fall Not Yet Born. The Odd Uneven Time.

There Is Nothing Like Puking With Somebody To Make You Into Old Friends.

What I Didn't Say Was That Each Time I Picked Up A German Dictionary Or A German Book, The Very Sight Of Those Dense, Black, Barbed-wire Letters Made My Mind Shut Like A Clam.