Heaven, For Me, Is One Focused Project

The Sad End He Met In Afghanistan Was More Accurately A Function Of His Stubborn Idealism - His Insistence On Trying To Do The Right Thing. In Which Case It Wasn't A Tragic Flaw That Brought Tillman Down, But A Tragic Virtue.

The Sea's Only Gifts Are Harsh Blows, And Occasionally The Chance To Feel Strong. Now I Don't Know Much About The Sea, But I Do Know That That's The Way It Is Here. And I Also Know How Important It Is In Life Not Necessarily To Be Strong But To Feel Strong. To Measure Yourself At Least Once. To Find Yourself At Least Once In The Most Ancient Of Human Conditions. Facing The Blind Death Stone Alone, With Nothing To Help You But Your Hands And Your Own Head.

My Reasoning, If One Can Call It That, Was Inflamed By The Scatter Shot Passions Of Youth And A Literary Diet Overly Rich In The Works Of Nietzshe, Kerouac, And John Menlove Edwards.

There Is Nothing Glamorous Or Romantic About War. It's Mostly About Random Pointless Death And Misery.

When I Start Any Book, I Have No Idea What I'm Going To Do.