I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.

The wind is us-- it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.

My father was quite an attractive guy. He was very intelligent and very amusing. I didn't like him. He was always very nice to me but I just didn't like him.

I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany´s.

That isn't writing at all, it's typing.

It's odd about tattoos. I've talked to several hundred men convicted of homicide-multiple homicide, in most cases. The only common denominate- I could find among them was tattoos. A good eighty percent of them were heavily tattooed.

The true beloveds of this world are in their lover's eyes lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child's Sunday, lost voices, one's favorite suit, autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.