But Standing In That Hallway, It Was

Finish What You're Writing. Whatever You Have To Do To Finish It, Finish It.

We Wrapped Our Dreams In Words And Patterned The Words So That They Would Live Forever, Unforgettable.

Actually I Didn't Shoot A Man In Reno Just To Watch Him Die, But He Could Tell I Was Extremely Cross.

It Goes Without Saying That All Of The People, Living, Dead, And Otherwise, In This Story Are Fictional Or Used In A Fictional Context. Only The Gods Are Real.

Writing's A Lot Like Cooking. Sometimes The Cake Won't Rise, No Matter What You Do, And Every Now And Again The Cake Tastes Better Than You Ever Could Have Dreamed It Would.