Reclusive? The inner city will secure your privacy better than any desert cave.
Posterity--the forlorn child of nineteenth century optimism--grows ever harder to conceive.
Explanations comfort us by giving the impression that there is an order in things.
Often, when I want to consult my impulses, I cannot find them.
The ugly can achieve an absoluteness beyond the reach of beauty.
In New York, one must collapse to be indolent.