But I'm Not A Saint Yet. I'm

When I Am Writing, I Try To Do It Five Hours A Day But I Spend About Two Of Those Just Fooling Around.

It's Bad Enough In Life To Do Without Something You Want; But Confound It, What Gets My Goat Is Not Being Able To Give Somebody Something You Want Them To Have.

Those Fellows, They're Always Crying Over Killers. Never A Thought For The Victims.

Most People Don't Find Their Creativity. There Are More Unsung Geniuses That Don't Even Know They Have Great Talent.

Of Many Magics, One Is Watching A Beloved Sleep: Free Of Eyes And Awareness, You For A Sweet Moment Hold The Heart Of Him; Helpless, He Is Then All, And However Irrationally, You Have Trusted Him To Be, Man-pure, Child-tender.