I lived in Georgetown in the late 70s about four houses down from the steps.

You don't blame us for being here, do you? After all, we have no place to go. No home... Incidentally, what an excellent day for an exorcism.

But a myth, to speak plainly, to me is like a menu in a fancy French restaurant: glamorous, complicated camouflage for a fact you wouldn't otherwise swallow, like maybe lima beans.

God never talks. But the devil keeps advertising, Father. The devil does a lot of commercials.

I didn't read The Haunting of Hill House until sometime early in the 1990's.

I get cassettes near Academy Award time of every movie that's made that thinks it has some kind of chance for a nomination - that's when I watch my movies

As far as God goes, I _am_ a nonbeliever. Still am. But when it comes to a devil---well, that's something else.