Sometimes I Heard Voices Muttering In My

Think Of Being Curled Up And Floating In A Darkness. Even If You Could Think, Even If You Had An Imagination, Would You Ever Imagine Its Opposite, This Miraculous World The Asian Taoists Call The "ten Thousand Things"? And If The Darkness Just Got Darker? And Then You Were Dead? What Would You Care? How Would You Eve Know The Difference?

I Wandered Over Across The Hall Where They Were Showing A Short Movie About Vasectomies. Much Later I Told Her That I'd Actually Gotten A Vasectomy A Long Time Ago, And Somebody Else Must Have Gotten Her Pregnant. I Also Told Her Once That I Had Inoperable Cancer And Would Soon Be Passed Away And Gone, Eternally. But Nothing I Could Think Up, No Matter How Dramatic Or Horrible, Ever Made Her Repent Or Love Me The Way She Had At First, Before She Really Knew Me.

There's So Much Goop Inside Of Us, Man," He Said, "and It All Just Wants To Get Out.

We’d Torn Open Our Chests And Shown Our Cowardly Hearts, And You Can Never Stay Friends After Something Like That

You're Under Pressure When You Produce Facts. You're Working With Facts In Journalism, But You're Under All Kinds Of Formal Constraints; There Are Expectations.