Gold was not sure of many things, but he was definite about one: for every successful person he knew, he could name at least two others of greater ability, better, and higher intelligence who, by comparison, had failed.

He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt.

Why are they going to disappear him?' I don't know.' It doesn't make sense. It isn't even good grammar.

Death to all modifiers, he declared one day, and out of every letter that passed through his hands went every adverb and every adjective.

Hungry Joe collected lists of fatal diseases and arranged them in alphabetical order so that he could put his finger without delay on any one he wanted to worry about.

If character is destiny, the good are damned.

Let's take a drive into the middle of nowhere with a packet of Marlboro lights and talk about our lives.