When I passed forty I dropped pretense, 'cause men like women who got some sense.

Until recently each generation found it more expedient to plead guilty to the charge of being young and ignorant, easier to take the punishment meted out by the older generation (which had itself confessed to the same crime short years before). The command to grow up at once was more bearable than the faceless horror of wavering purpose, which was youth.

Life loves the liver of it.

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win its service to my side are useless as wounded pride, and much more painful.

Stormy or sunny days, glorious or lonely nights, I maintain an attitude of gratitude.

Laugh as much as you can.

I don't think there's such a thing as autobiographical fiction. If I say it happened, it happened, even if only in my mind.