The first day of the rest of my life.

I have a kind of old-fashioned, artisan approach.

Slippery slope. I carry a spare shirt, pretty soon I'm carrying spare pants. Then I'd need a suitcase. Next thing I know, I've got a house and a car and a savings plan and I'm filling out all kinds of forms.

He looked at the pain and he set himself apart from it. He saw it, examined it, identified it, corralled it. He isolated it. He challenged it. You against me? Dream on, pal. He built borders for it. Then walls. He built walls and forced the pain behind them and then he moved the walls inward, compressing the pain, crushing it, boxing it in, limiting it, beating it.

Printing currency for foreigners to buy is the best racket a government can get into.

Writing is showbusiness for shy people. That's how I see it.

Hope for the best, plan for the worst.