A Cannon Fires Only Once But Words

Your Head's Like Mine, Like All Our Heads; Big Enough To Contain Every God And Devil There Ever Was. Big Enough To Hold The Weight Of Oceans And The Turning Stars. Whole Universes Fit In There! But What Do We Choose To Keep In This Miraculous Cabinet? Little Broken Things, Sad Trinkets That We Play With Over And Over. The World Turns Our Key And We Play The Same Little Tune Again And Again And We Think That Tune's All We Are.

It’s Mostly Just You Have To Convince Yourself That There’s Nothing Else In The Room But John Lennon And Suddenly Things Start John Lennon-ing!

My Art School Rejection Letter Arrived As A Cold Manila Fist That Closed Around My Fragile Hopes ... The Fear Was Practically Edible. Nothing Would Happen Unless I Get Out And Make It Happen. Then, As If Handling Me The Keys To The Jet Pack, My Dad Bought Me A Typewriter And A Taped Message To The Inside Of Its Case: "son - The World Is Waiting To Hear From You".

I'm Lucky To Have A Job Doing Something I Really Love To Do, And I'm Happy To Accept The Pressures Of Relentless Deadlines Or Reader Expectations As Necessary Evils. It's Probably Not As Stressful As Mining Coal Or Leading Men Into Battle.

There's A Palace In Your Head, Boy. Learn To Live In It Always.