I'm A Slow Reader, But I Usually

Why Don't We All Just Go Crazy When We Know Were Going To Croak? Because The Mind's A Monkey. You Put Things In Departments And You Go Ahead. You Go On And Plan For The Future And Assume That The Future's Going To Work Out Okay. Yet We Know That Sooner Or Later We're All Going To Be Eating Worms, Whether It's Fifty Years Or Sixty. It Might Be Tomorrow. It Might Happen Today.

The Wife Whose Sweetly Given Reply In The Face Of Any Problem Would Be, "whatever You Think Is Best, Dear." Women, Take Note: A Wife Like That Never Needs To Fear Bubbling Away The Last Of Her Life Through A Cut Throat.

I'm Having A Magenta Day. Not Just Red, But Magenta!

Ka Works And The World Moves On.

I'm Convinced That Fear Is At The Root, Of All Bad Writing