Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your

Even When I Look Straight Into The Milky Blue Eyes I Can't Find Myself Any More. When Did I Stop Being Me?

...if You Expect People To Try To Do Things Your Way, You're Going To Have To Give Some Hints As To What That Way Is.

He Stares At Me, And Then Leans Back In His Chair. "he's Ill, Jacob." I Say Nothing. "he's A Paragon Schnitzophonic." "he's What?!" "paragon Schnitzophonic," Repeats Uncle Al. "you Mean Paranoid Schizophrenic?" "sure. Whatever. But The Bottom Line Is He's Mad As A Hatter.

The More Distressing The Memory, The More Persistent It's Presence.

You Work Hard On A Book And Throw It Out There And Then It's Beyond Your Control.