Jack London drinking his life awa… writing of strange and heroic men. Eugene O’Neill drinking himself o… while writing his dark and poetic works.

consistency is terrific: shark-mouth grubby interior with an almost perfect body, long blazing hair—

Every night was about the same. I’d drive along the coast looking for a place to have dinner. I wanted an expensive place that wasn’t too crowded. I developed a nose for those places. I...

At 3:30 a.m. my twelve hours were… I set the alarm so that I would b… “What happened, Hank? We thought… “I’m quitting.” “Quitting?” “Yes, you can’t blame a man for wa…

in the earliest possible day in the blue-headed noon I will telegraph you a boney hand decorated with

you came out, she said, and then you kicked this guy’s car and then you threw yourself into a… you crushed the whole bush,

the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs

So gramps wrote Joyce a big check and there we were. We rented a little house up on a hill, and then Joyce got this stupid moralistic thing. “We both ought to get jobs,” Joyce said, “to...

There was this place. It stretched over the sea, it was built over the sea. An old place, but with a touch of class. We got a room on the first floor. You could hear the ocean running d...

she sits up there drinking wine while her husband is at work. she puts quite

you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—

That night I took Tammie to the harness races. We went upstairs to the second deck and sat down. I brought her a program and she stared at it a while. (At the harness races, past perfor...