The smallest coffins are the heaviest.

I wanted to try this new drink: That's all we do, isn't it - look at things and try new drinks?

What difference does it make if you live in a picturesque little outhouse surrounded by 300 feeble minded goats and your faithful dog? The question is: Can you write?

My only regret in life is that I did not drink more wine.

He liked the works of his friends, which is beautiful as loyalty but can be disastrous as judgement.

The first draft of anything is sh*t.

All stories, if continued far enough, end in death.