A Novel Determines Its Own Size And

In The American Soul There Is A Lonely Individual Standing In A Vast Landscape.

I Don't Know What I Think About Certain Subjects, Even Today, Until I Sit Down And Try To Write About Them.

Do People Still Shoot At Presidents? I Thought There Were More Stimulating Targets.' (20)

If The World Is Where We Hide From Ourselves, What Do We Do When The World Is No Longer Accessible? We Invent A False Name, Invent A Destiny, Purchase A Firearm Through The Mail.

He Wanted Paper And Something To Write With, Some Way To Sustain A Thought, To Place It In The World.