Cold morning on Aztec Peak Fire Lookout. First, build fire in old stove. Second, start coffee. Then, heat up last night's pork chops and spinach for breakfast. Why not? And why the hell not?

I believe in nothing that I cannot touch, kiss, embrace.... The rest is only hearsay.

My own best books have not been published. In fact, they've not even been written yet.

In marriage, the occasional catastrophic crisis is easier to manage than the daily routine.

I am hopeful, though not full of hope, and the only reason I don't believe in happy endings is because I don't believe in endings.

Counterpart to the knee-jerk liberal is the new knee-pad conservative, always groveling before the rich and the powerful.

James Joyce buried himself in his great work. _Finnegan's Wake_ is his monument and his tombstone. A dead end.