I’m putty in her hands. Out of her hands, I’m more like clay.


“She wasn’t gung ho, but she was Gung’s ho. There’s no love lost between them, b…”

“It takes maturity and practice and patience to spread chunky peanut butter even…”

“Who art thou, Art? Do you make art the way I make love—with a paintbrush?”

“Hard work would really open doors for me. So would being disabled.”