Not Since The British Raided

I Write Much Better In The Nonconfines Of The Early Morning Than I Do The Clutter Of The Day.

I Think I'd Rather Win, For Example, A Writer's Guild Award Than Almost Anything On Earth. And The Few Nominations I've Had With The Guild, And The Few Awards I've Had, Represented To Me A Far More Legitimate Concrete Achievement Than Anything.

I Don't Think Playing It Safe Constitutes A Retreat, Necessarily. In Other Words, I Don't Think If, By Playing Safe He Means We Are Not Going To Delve Into Controversy, Then If That's What He Means He's Quite Right. I'm Not Going To Delve Into Controversy. Somebody Asked Me The Other Day If This Means That I'm Going To Be A Meek Conformist, And My Answer Is No. I'm Just Acting The Role Of A Tired Non-conformist.

Good Evening, And Welcome To A Private Showing Of Three Paintings, Displayed Here For The First Time. Each Is A Collectors' Item In Its Own Way - Not Because Of Any Special Artistic Quality, But Because Each Captures On A Canvas, And Suspends In Time And Space, A Frozen Moment Of A Nightmare.

How Can You Put On A Meaningful Drama When Every Fifteen Minutes Proceedings Are Interrupted By Twelve Dancing Rabbits With Toilet Paper?