It was always hard work to push through a crowed of reporters with the scent of blood in their nostrils. You might not think so, since on camera they appear to be brain-damaged wimps with severe eating disorders. But put them at a police barricade and a miraculous thing happens...The strength comes from some mysterious place-and somehow, when there is gore on the ground, these anorexic creatures can push their way through anything. Without mussing their hair, too.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

And then more quiet, silence so deep it almost drowned out the roar of the night music that pounded away in my secret self.

I enjoyed watching good-looking idiots looking at each other. A great spectator sport.

It's terrible to have to depend on someone else.

Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?

For my part, my interest in Paris had faded away completely long ago when I learned that it was in France.