Don't wanna sleep, don't wanna die, just wanna go a-travellin' through the pastures of the sky

Never demean yourself by talking back to a critic, never. Write those letters to the editor in your head, but don't put them on paper.

Writing in the first person automatically gives you a point of view.

Oh Jesus God we did belong to each other. He was mine.

I don't mean I'd mind being rich and famous. That's very much on my schedule, and someday I'll try to get around to it; but if it happens, I'd like to have my ego tagging along. I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany's.

Some cities, like wrapped boxes under Christmas trees, conceal unexpected gifts, secret delights. Some cities will always remain wrapped boxes, containers of riddles never to be solved, nor even to be seen by vacationing visitors, or, for that matter, the most inquisitive, persistent travelers.

Are the dead as lonesome as the living?