I took a little celebrational nap.

My capacity for having a good time exists. It surfaces, however, on odd occasions.

People have been modeling their lives after films for years, but the medium is somehow unsuited to moral lessons, cautionary tales or polemics of any kind.

The whole magic of a plot requires that somebody be impeded from getting something over with.

The writer has a grudge against society, which he documents with accounts of unsatisfying sex, unrealized ambition, unmitigated loneliness, and a sense of local and global distress.

the time for prizes and competitions at art festivals is over. Competition is too closely tied to values that are alien to the arts.

The radical intelligence in the moderate position is the only place where the center holds. Or so it seems.