I Can Write Best In The Silence

I Am Tired. My Arm Aches. My Head Boils. My Feet Are Cold. But I Am Not Aware Of Any Weakness.

Realism Is Death To Me. I Cannot Stand Life As It Is.

Adam Larey Gazed With Hard And Wondering Eyes Down The Silent Current Of The Red River Upon Which He Meant To Drift Away Into The Desert

Jealously Was An Unjust And Stifling Thing.

Where I Was Raised A Woman's Word Was Law. I Ain't Quite Outgrowed That Yet.