"Every novelist who has slept with the Bitch (only poets and writers of short stories have a Muse) comes away bragging afterward like a G.I. tumbling out of a whorehouse spree-- 'Man, I made her moan' goes the cry of the young writer. But the Bitch laughs afterward in her empty bed. 'He was so sweet in the beginning,' she declares, 'but by the end he just went, "Peep, peep, peep.'"
--Norman Mailer, THE SPOOKY ART, p. 58