Every Time I See A Picture Of

They Wanted To Have A Good Time, But They Were Like Children Playing In The Street; They Could See One After Another Of Them Being Killed--run Over, Maimed, Destroyed--but They Continued To Play Anyhow.

It Really Seems To Me That In The Midst Of Great Tragedy, There Is Always The Horrible Possibility That Something Terribly Funny Will Happen.

Certainly It Constitutes Bad News If The People Who Agree With You Are Buggier Than Batshit.

I Think Great Art Should Play A Part In The Ordinary Man's Life, Don't You? It Can Make His Existence So Much Richer And More Meaningful.

He Felt All At Once Like An Ineffectual Moth, Fluttering At The Windowpane Of Reality, Dimly Seeing It From Outside.