Think of Shakespeare and Melville and you think of thunder, lightning, wind. They all knew the joy of creating in large or small forms, on unlimited or restricted canvases. These are the children of the gods.

Why live? Life was its own answer. Life was the propagation of more life and the living of as good a life as possible.

We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while.

I have total recall. I remember being born. I remember being in the womb, I remember being inside. Coming out was great.

I love all of the arts. I love motion pictures. I love stage. I love theater.

Where would you like to go, what would you really like to do with your life? See Istanbul, Port Said, Nairobi, Budapest. Write a book. Smoke too many cigarettes. Fall off a cliff but get caught in a tree halfway down. Get shot at a few times in a dark alley on a Morrocan midnight. Love a beautiful woman.

And what, you ask, does writing teach us? First and foremost, it reminds us that we are alive and that it is a gift and a privilege, not a right.