...my Conscience Has The Same Hard Reality

And Then More Quiet, Silence So Deep It Almost Drowned Out The Roar Of The Night Music That Pounded Away In My Secret Self.

And Once Again I Found Myself Wondering, As I Drifted Off To Stunned And Unbelieving Sleep:how Do These Terrible Things Always Happen To Me?

I Mean, Really: What Kind Of Person Could Possibly Dislike Me?

The Mind Picks Some Very Bad Times To Take A Walk Doesn't It?

But Of Course, There's No Rest For The Wicked, Which I Certainly Am; As I Said, No Rest For The Wicked.