I had woven a tapestry of obscenity that as far as I know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan.

Some men are Baptists, others Catholics; my father was an Oldsmobile man.

There are fewer things more thrilling in life than lumpy letters. That rattle.

I had woven a tapestry of obscenity that as far as I know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan.

A man today never feels so alive as when he is hurtling from one point to another on the azimuth.

The reality of what we really are is often times found in the small snips, way down at the bottom of things.

The truth will always have a market.