All I Wanted To Do Was Sneak

The Silence Was An Intense Roar.

Paris Is A Woman But London Is An Independent Man Puffing His Pipe In A Pub.

Mainly I've Been Back To My Books And Writings And Being Nice And Quiet And Lazy. As I'm Writing This, The Radio Says There's A Foot Of Snow Falling On Long Island. I Really Love Snow And Wish I Could Take A Long Walk In It Right Now.

All Is Well, Practice Kindness, Heaven Is Nigh.

If You Dont [sic] Say What You Want, What's The Sense Of Writing?