“Americans have a special horror of giving up control, of letting things happen in their own way without interference. They would like to jump down into their stomachs and digest the food and shovel the shit out.” (p. 195)
“What Are You Doing Here? Who Are You?” (p. 199)
“There is only one thing a writer can write about: what is in front of his senses at the moment of writing.” (p. 200)
William S Burroughs. Naked Lunch. New York: Grove Weidenfield, 1959.