I also believe I met William Gaddis once. He did not look Italian.

I also believe I met William Gaddis once. He did not look Italian.

You can learn more by going to the opera than you ever can by reading Emerson. Like that there are two sexes.

You will say that I am old and mad, was what Michaelangelo wrote, but I answer that there is no better way of being sane and free from anxiety than by being mad.

Doubtless these are inconsequential perplexities. Still, inconsequential perplexities have now and again been known to become the fundamental mood of existence, one suspects.

Is T.S. Eliot the only poet one can think of who could have spent a year on his own in Paris at twenty-three—and managed to have no sexual encounter whatsoever?

Was it really some other person I was so anxious to discover...or was it only my own solitude that I could not abide?