Memory Whispers Someplace In That Jumbled Machinery.

I Been Silent So Long Now It’s Gonna Roar Out Of Me Like Floodwaters And You Think The Guy Telling This Is Ranting And Raving My God; You Think This Is Too Horrible To Have Really Happened, This Is Too Awful To Be The Truth! But, Please. It’s Still Hard For Me To Have A Clear Mind Thinking On It. But It’s The Truth Even If It Didn’t Happen.

Ritual Is Necessary For Us To Know Anything.

His Whole Body Shakes With The Strain As He Tries To Lift Something He Knows He Can't Lift, Something Everybody Knows He Can't Lift. But, For Just A Second, When We Hear The Cement Grind At Our Feet, We Think, By Golly, He Might Do It.

This World Belongs To The Strong, My Friend! The Ritual Of Our Existence Is Based On The Strong Getting Stronger By Devouring The Weak. We Must Face Up To This. No More Than Right That It Should Be This Way. We Must Learn To Accept It As A Law Of The Natural World. The Rabbits Accept Their Role In The Ritual And Recognize The Wolf As The Strong. In Defense, The Rabbit Becomes Sly And Frightened And Elusive And He Digs Holes And Hides When The Wolf Is About. And He Endures, He Goes On. He Knows His Place. He Most Certainly Doesn't Challenge The Wolf To Combat. Now, Would That Be Wise? Would It?

I've Enjoyed Being A Famous Writer-except That Every Once In A While You Have To Write Something.