How long can we maintain? I wonder. How long before one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely dese….

The Sixties were an era of extreme reality. I miss the smell of tear gas. I miss the fear of getting beaten..

One of the few ways I can almost be certain I'll understand something is by sitting down and writing about it. Because by forcing yourself to write a….

The waitress had the appearance of a very old hooker who had finally found her place in life.

You can't hoard fun. It has no shelf life..

Some people will say that words like scum and rotten are wrong for Objective Journalism -- which is true, but they miss the point. It was the built-i….

He wandered into the Newsroom and asked for a job the same way he’d walk into a barbershop and ask for a haircut, and with no more idea of being turn….

I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably mak….

It was the kind of town that made you feel like Humphrey Bogart: you came in on a bumpy little plane, and, for some mysterious reason, got a private ….

With the possible exception of things like box scores, race results, and stock market tabulations, there is no such thing as Objective Journalism. Th….

I understand that fear is my friend, but not always. Never turn your back on Fear. It should always be in front of you, like a thing that might have ….

The slow-rising central horror of "Watergate" is not that it might grind down to the reluctant impeachment of a vengeful thug of a president whose en….

...the crazy never die..

Cover a war in a place where you can't drink beer or talk to a woman? Hell no!.

Words are such a poor medium when you really want someone to feel something..

In Hong Kong, Dallas, or at home —and regardless of whether or not I have been to bed — breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly obse….

By the time I got to high school I knew what I was gonna do. Mainly because I looked around and saw there wasn't much else I was able to do. I was a ….

No matter how much I wanted all those things that I needed money to buy, there was some devilish current pushing me off in another direction -- towar….

Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of 'the rat race' is not yet final..

Fiction is based on reality unless you're a fairytale artist..

I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes..