But Life Never Lets You Go, Does

Whisky, I Find, Helps Clarity Of Thought. And Reduces Pain. It Has The Additional Virtue Of Making You Drunk Or, If Taken In Sufficient Quantity, Very Drunk.

I Have An Instinct For Survival, For Self-preservation.

If The Writer Were More Like A Reader, He’d Be A Reader, Not A Writer. It’s As Uncomplicated As That.

Nature Is So Exact, It Hurts Exactly As Much As It Is Worth, So In A Way One Relishes The Pain. If It Didn't Matter, It Wouldn't Matter.

When I Was Still Quite Young I Had A Complete Presentiment Of Life. It Was Like The Nauseating Smell Of Cooking Escaping From A Ventilator: You Don't Have To Have Eaten It To Know That It Would Make You Throw Up.