There's Something Bad In Everything Good And

The Big Wall Street Firms, Seemingly So Shrewd And Self-interested, Had Somehow Become The Dumb Money. The People Who Ran Them Did Not Understand Their Own Businesses, And Their Regulators Obviously Knew Even Less.

There Used To Be This Guy Called Vinny Who Worked On The Floor Of The Stock Exchange, Said One Big Investor Who Had Observed The Market For A Long Time. After The Markets Closed Vinny Would Get Into His Cadillac And Drive Out To His Big House In Long Island. Now There Is The Guy Called Vladimir Who Gets Into His Jet And Flies To His Estate In Aspen For The Weekend. I Used To Worry A Little About Vinny. Now I Worry A Lot About Vladimir

I Procrastinate To A Point Where I'm Filled With Self-loathing And Then I Start Writing. It's Usually A State Of Self-loathing That Gets Me Going.

I Always Find With My Stories That The Way They Start Is That I Just Get So Interested In A Person That I'm Compelled To Go Back To Them Over And Over Until I Learn More And More About Them, Without Even Quite Thinking It's Material For A Book.

The Moulin Rouge Is, Like The West Village And The Nasdaq, One Of Those Places That People Who Don't Like To Take Risks Come To For The Thrill Of Being On The Spot Where Risks Once Were Taken.