I'm known as a strange, aloof kind of man. But all I'm doing is trying to protect myself and my work.

Yet a real artist, I've noticed, will survive anything. (Even praise, I happily suspect.)

I was surrounded by jerks. I'm not kidding.

That's the terrible part. I swear to God I'm a madman.

I've never seen such a bunch of apple-eaters.

Are all your stars shining?

I’m not going to bed after all. Somebody around here hath murdered sleep. Good for him.