The Sixties were an era of extreme reality. I miss the smell of tear gas. I miss the fear of getting beaten.

The thing that was important to me about Hemingway at the time was that Hemingway taught me that you could be a writer and get away with it.

God's mercy on you degenerate swine.

February is always a bad month for TV sports. Football is gone, basketball is plodding along in the annual midseason doldrums, and baseball is not even mentioned.

That is the problem with this rich and anguished generation. Somewhere a long time ago they fell in love with the idea that politicians- even the slickest and brightest presidential candidates- were real heroes and truly exciting people. That is wrong on its face. They are mainly dull people with corrupt instincts and criminal children.

America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.

Cover a war in a place where you can't drink beer or talk to a woman? Hell no!