Sex Is A Slotmachine.

It Was The Ponderous Battering Ram Of His Novels That Opened The Way Through The Genteel Reticences Of American Nineteenth-century Fiction. . . Without [theodore] Dreiser's Treading Out A Path For Naturalism None Of Us Would Have Had A Chance To Publish.

Isn't It Curious How Completely Ignorant We All Are Of The Most Important Part Of Our Bodily Mechanism. It Is Really Criminal. Yet There Is No Nation In The World That Doesnt Surround Sex With Fantastic Walls. Of Course Ours Are Sillier Than Any-but Not Much.

The Gospel Of The Army Is Cunning, As Of All Other Human Activities. The Wisdom Of The Snake Under The Meekness Of The Sheep Is What Wins Out. The First Commandment Is--never Let Them Get Anything On You-- The Second: Graft--get Privileges Others Haven't Got--worm Yourself Into Confidence The Third--seem Neat And Prosperous--as If You Had Money In The Bank

The Enormous Room Seems To Me To Be The Book That Has Nearest Approached The Mood Of Reckless Adventure In Which Men Will Reach The White Heat Of Imagination Needed To Fuse The Soggy Disjointed Complexity Of The Industrial Life About Us Into Seething Fluid Of Creation. There Can Be No More Playing Safe.

The Terrible Thing About Having New York Go Stale On You Is That There's Nowhere Else. It's The Top Of The World.