My writing has gone to bits - like my character. I am simply a self-conscious nerve in pain.
Even things that are true can be proved.
Art finds her own perfection within, and not outside of, herself. She is not to be judged by any external standard of resemblance.
Nobody ever commits a crime without doing something stupid.
We live, I regret to say, in an age of Big Data hype.
There are few things easier than to live badly and die well.