I Desire That Death Find Me Ready

There Is No Lighter Burden, Nor More Agreeable, Than A Pen. Other Pleasures Fail Us Or Wound Us While They Charm, But The Pen We Take Up Rejoicing And Lay Down With Satisfaction, For It Has The Power To Advantage Not Only Its Lord And Master, But Many Others As Well, Even Though They Be Far Away - Sometimes, Indeed, Though They Be Not Born For Thousands Of Years To Come.

The Greater I Am, The Greater Shall Be My Efforts.

Sameness Is The Mother Of Disgust, Variety The Cure.

Perhaps Out There, Somewhere, Someone Is Sighing For Your Absence; And With This Thought, My Soul Begins To Breathe.

For Death Betimes Is Comfort, Not Dismay, And Who Can Rightly Die Needs No Delay.