Clocks indeed must have their sacrifice: what is death but an offering to time and eternity?
I got this idea of doing a really serious big work-it would be precisely like a novel, with a single difference: Every word of it would be true from beginning to end.
Traveling wears me out.
Wrinkles and bones, white hair and diamonds: I can't wait.
Well, I'm about as tall as a shotgun, and just as noisy.
I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.