:42:15
If I close my eyes,
:42:16
I can almost smell the live oak.
:42:19
That's chicken fat, Bill.
:42:23
Well, my olfactory's
turning womanish on me...
:42:26
lying and deceitful.
:42:27
Still, I must say I haven't
felt peace like this
:42:31
since the grand productive days.
:42:33
Don't you find it so, Barton?
:42:37
Ain't writing peace?
:42:40
Well...
:42:43
actually...
:42:45
no, Bill.
:42:49
No. I've always found
:42:52
that writing comes
from a great inner pain.
:42:55
Maybe it's a pain
that comes from a realization
:42:58
that one must do something
for one's fellow man
:43:01
to help somehow ease the suffering.
:43:04
Maybe it's personal pain.
:43:07
At any rate, I don't believe
:43:09
good work is possible without it.
:43:12
Hmm.
:43:13
Well, me, I just enjoy
making things up.
:43:17
Yes, sir. Escape.
:43:21
It's when I can't write
and escape myself,
:43:23
that I want to rip my head off
:43:26
and run screaming through the street
:43:28
with my balls
in a fruit picker's pail.
:43:31
Hmm.
:43:31
This will sometimes help.
:43:33
That doesn't help anything, Bill.
:43:35
I've never found that
to help my writing.
:43:38
Your writing?
:43:39
Son, have you ever heard
the story of Solomon's mammy?
:43:43
Barton, you should read this.
:43:45
I think it's Bill's finest,
:43:46
or among his finest, anyway.
:43:48
So now I'm supposed to roll over
:43:50
and get my belly scratched?
:43:51
Bill.
:43:52
Look, uh...
:43:53
maybe it's none of my business,
:43:55
but don't you think
a man with your talent...
:43:58
your first obligation
is to your gift?