Without gambling, I would not exist.

Richard Nixon has never been one of my favorite people anyway. For years I've regarded his existence as a monument to all the rancid genes and broken chromosomes that corrupt the possibilities of the American Dream; he was a foul caricature of himself, a man with no soul, no inner convictions, with the integrity of a hyena and the style of a poison toad. The Nixon I remembered was absolutely humorless; I couldn't imagine him laughing at anything except maybe a paraplegic who wanted to vote Democratic but couldn't quite reach the lever on the voting machine.

Just sick enough to be totally confident

We must ride this strange torpedo out until the end.

and the sad notes floated out to the patio and hung in the trees like birds too tired to fly

Everyone crashes Some get back on Some don't Some can't.

I feel the same way about disco as I do about herpes.