I am a dolt of a man, easily made happy or even stupidly happy almost without cause and left alone I am mostly content.

my mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! why don't you ever smile?" and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw

Only the boring get bored

writers are desperate people and when they stop being desperate they stop being writers.

My body gnaws at me from one side and my spirit gnaws at me from the other.

… and we are in bed together laughing and we don’t care about anything.

it doesn't matter if Prince Charles falls off his horse or that the hummingbird is so seldom seen or that we are too senseless to go insane. coffee. give us more of that NOTHING coffee.