That's Just Your Ego, Trying To Make

If I'm Being Forgiving Of Myself, I Could Say I'm Somebody Who Was Really Hungry For Experiences. The Same Thing That Would Make Me Go Try To Be A Trail Cook On A Ranch Was The Same Thing That Would Make Me Want To Have Sex With A Couple Cowboys While I Was There.

I Had Long Ago Learned That When You Are The Giant, Alien Visitor To A Remote And Foreign Culture It Is Sort Of Your Job To Become An Object Of Ridicule. It’s The Least You Can Do, Really, As A Polite Guest.

I Should Just Put It Bluntly, Because We're All Sort Of Friends Here Now - It's Exceedingly Likely That My Greatest Success Is Behind Me. Oh, So Jesus, What A Thought! You Know That's The Kind Of Thought That Could Lead A Person To Start Drinking Gin At Nine O'clock In The Morning, And I Don't Want To Go There.

We All Have Love Stories That Go Terribly Wrong; We All Have Horribly Broken Hearts. And Somehow We Endure. We're Not Destroyed By It. We Endure And Go On To Do Interesting Things And Have Worthy Lives, Even Though We Carry Our Heartbreaks With Us. That's A Kind Of Personal Story Of Mine That I Don't Think I Would Tell In Memoir But I Do Think I Can Tell In Fiction.

We Have Hands; We Can Stand On Them If We Want To. That's Our Privilege. That's The Joy Of A Mortal Body. And That's Why God Needs Us. Because God Loves To Feel Things Through Our Hands.