Never mistake talking about writing for actual writing.

Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.

Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.

The Four Inevitabilities: 1. Musty Books. 2. Uninteresting Nature. 3. Dull Existence. 4. Blank Nirvana, buy that boy.

As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind.

I believed in a good home, in sane and sound living, in good food, good times, work, faith and hope. I have always believed in these things. It was with some amazement that I realized I was one of the few people in the world who really believed in these things without going around making a dull middle class philosophy out of it. I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.

Hell man, I know very well you didn't come to me only to want to become a writer, and after all what do I really know about it except that you've got to stick to it with the energy of a benny addict.