I Like Living In One Room And

I Came First To America In 1977 At The Invitation Of A Man Who Wanted To Make My Life Story Into A Musical. But My Agent Said It Was Not To Be And It Was Never Done. So I Went Back, But I'd Seen New York, And I Wanted To Live There. Because Everybody Talks To You In The Street. See, Nobody Talks To You In England.

The Message That 'love' Will Solve All Of Our Problems Is Repeated Incessantly In Contemporary Culture - Like A Philosophical Tom Tom. It Would Be Closer To The Truth To Say That Love Is A Contagious And Virulent Disease Which Leaves A Victim In A State Of Near Imbecility, Paralysis, Profound Melancholia, And Sometimes Culminates In Death.

You Don't Have To Do Anything.

In An Expanding Universe, Time Is On The Side Of The Outcast. Those Who Once Inhabited The Suburbs Of Human Contempt Find That Without Changing Their Address They Eventually Live In The Metropolis.

Love Is The Extra Effort We Make In Our Dealings With Those Whom We Do Not Like And Once You Understand That, You Understand All. This Idea That Love Overtakes You Is Nonsense. This Is But A Polite Manifestation Of Sex. To Love Another You Have To Undertake Some Fragment Of Their Destiny.