Writing Is A Lonely Way Of Life.

Everything Is True,' He Said. 'everything Anybody Has Ever Thought.' 'will You Be All Right?' 'i'll Be All Right,' He Said, And Thought, And I'm Going To Die. Both Those Are True, Too.

You're Killing Yourself With Cynicism. Your Idols Got Taken Away From You One By One And Now You Have Nothing To Give Your Love To.

Reality Denied Comes Back To Haunt.

The Odd Thing In This World Is That An Eager-beaver Type, With No Original Ideas, Who Mimes Those In Authority Above Him Right To The Last Twist Of Necktie And Scrape Of Chin, Always Gets Noticed. Gets Selected. Rises.

Just Because Something Bears The Aspect Of The Inevitable One Should Not, Therefore, Go Along Willingly With It.