There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.

People just weren't interesting. Maybe they weren't supposed to be. But animals, birds, even insects were. I couldn't understand it.

The hangover was brutal but he didn't mind. It told him he had been somewhere else, someplace good.

they thought I had guts they were wrong I was only frightened of more important things

Those who preach god, need god Those who preach peace do not have peace Those who preach love do not have love

It was hard for me to believe. When recess was over I sat in class and thought about it. My mother had a hole and my father had a dong that shot juice. How could they have things like that and walk around as if everything was normal, and talk about things, and then do it and not tell anybody?

take a writer away from his typewriter and all you have left is the sickness which started him typing in the beginning