Things will be far worse than they are now. And far better. I wait.
When a writer is swayed with his fame and his fortune, you can float him down the river with the turds.
there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate.
bad writing's like bad women: there's just not much you can do about it
A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.
Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn't mad was angry. And the part that wasn't mad or angry was just stupid. I had no chance. I had no choice. Just hang on and wait for the end. It was hard work. It was the hardest work imaginable.