I Always Write A Story In One

If You Are Required To Kill Someone Today, On The Promise Of A Political Leader That Someone Else Shall Live In Peace Tomorrow, Believe Me, You Are Not Only A Double Murderer, You Are A Suicide, Too.

. . . All That She Had Had, And All That She Had Missed, Were Lost Together, And Were Twice Lost In This Landslide Of Remembered Losses.

All The Old Houses That I Knew When I Was A Child Were Full Of Books, Bought Generation After Generation By Members Of The Family. Nobody Told You To Read This Or Not To Read That.

Religion Put Claws On Aunt Sally And Gave Her A Post To Whet Them On.

Death Is Loneliness In Its Purest Form.