By The Time I Was Fourteen The

So Where Do The Ideas-the Salable Ideas-come From? They Come From My Nightmares. Not The Night-time Variety, As A Rule, But The Ones That Hide Just Beyond The Doorway That Separates The Conscious From The Unconscious.

Don’t Go Beyond, No Matter How Much You Feel You Need To, Doctor. The Barrier Was Not Made To Be Broken. Remember This: There Is More Power Here Than You Know. It Is Old And Always Restless. Remember.

I Was Built With A Love Of The Night And The Unquiet Coffin.

Description Begins In The Writer’s Imagination, But Should Finish In The Reader’s.

Anything With The Power To Make You Laugh Over Thirty Years Later Isn’t A Waste Of Time. I Think Something Like That Is Very Close To Immortality.