I Mean, When You're Tired Of Book

By Now He Had Learned Enough To Know That When He Was Getting Annoyed At Somebody Else, It Was Usually Because There Was Something That He Himself Should Be Doing, And He Wasn't Doing It.

That’s What Death Did, It Treated You Like A Child, Like Everything You Had Ever Thought And Done And Cared About Was Just A Child’s Game, To Be Crumpled Up And Thrown Away When It Was Over. It Didn’t Matter. Death Didn’t Respect You. Death Thought You Were Bullshit, And It Wanted To Make Sure You Knew It.

It's A Terrible Thing For A Book, When You Feel Like You're Supposed To Like It.

Being Brave Was Easy When You Would Rather Die Than Give Up.

And I'm Not As Young As I Once Was. At My Age, I Don't Have Time To Be Bored.