Most writers flinch at the thought of being completely honest about themselves. So absolute honesty is what marks the true modern.

Their violence (the jungle wars of the '70s), and all violence for that matter, reflects the neutral exploration of sensation that is taking place, within sex as elsewhere and the sense that the perversions are valuable precisely because they provide a readily accessible anthology of exploratory techniques.

The human race sleepwalked to oblivion, thinking only of the corporate logos on it's shroud.

If I don't write, I begin to feel unsettled and uneasy, as I gather people do who are not allowed to dream.

I think the enemy of creativity in the world today is that so much thinking is done for you.

In the post-Warhol era a single gesture such as uncrossing one's legs will have more significance than all the pages in War and Peace.

In a completely sane world, madness is the only freedom.