I Never Met A Writer Who Wasn't

If You Intend To Write As Truthfully As You Can, Your Days As A Member Of Polite Society Are Numbered.

She Couldn't Be On His Wavelength All The Time. That's All. When You Could Recognize That And Deal With It, You Were On Your Way To An Adult Relationship.

I Looked At The Ceiling And Wished This Life Was Over. This Unhappy Life That Had Started Out So Confidently. I Thought I Would Sleep No More That Night But Eventually I Did. In The End We Always Wear Out Our Worries. That's What Wire Man Says.

The Redness Was Going Out Of The Light Now, The Remains Of The Day Were A Fading Pink, The Color Of Wild Roses.

I Think Telling Stories Is Like Pushing Something. Pushing Against Uncreation Itself, Maybe.