I Hated The Words. Each One Was

Literature Is Humanity's Broad-minded Alter-ego, With Room In Its Heart For Monsters, Even For You. It's Humanity Without The Judgement.

Any Seasoned Deal Maker Will Tell You That Spontaneous Negotiation's A Bad Strategy; The Ad Hoc Approach Will Leave You Ripped-off, Busted, Conned, Stiffed, Outsmarted And Generally Holding The Shitty End Of The Stick.

My Parents Believe In The Happy Endings To The Stories Of Their Children.

No Artist Knows Everything... But Since Every Artist Knows More Than He Can Tell, All Art Is Lying By Omission.

Every Now And Then Life Sold You An Illusion Of Design. A Coincidence, A Parallel, A Sledgehammer Symbol. The Goods Were Always Faulty. You Forked Over The Cash Only To Discover They'd Fallen Apart By The Time You Got Home. But Life Kept At It. Life Couldn't Help It. Life Was A Compulsive Salesman.