That moment - to this ... may be years in the way they measure, but it's only one sentence back in my mind - there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails. I pass the hotel at 8 and at 5; there are cats in the alleys and bottles and bums, and I look up at the window and think, I no longer know where you are, and I walk on and wonder where the living goes when it stops.

not writing is not good but trying to write when you can't is worse.

how can you be true and kind at the same time? how?

Love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality.

What a woman wants is a reaction. What a man wants is a woman.

The Artist," an ancient sage had once said, "is always sitting on the doorsteps of the rich.

I will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here - it'll be better for all of us.