It Is Simple And Brutal: A Person

My Next Book - Each One While I'm Working On It - Dances In My Mind And Thrills Me At Every Turn. If It Didn't, Why Would I Write It?

Everything Was Screaming: The Sea, The Wind, My Heart.

Work, Work, Work, But What Mark Do We Leave, What Point Do We Make? People Who Are Too Beholden To Work Become Like Erasers: As Things Move Forward, They Leave In Their Wake No Trace Of Themselves.

How Long Does It Take For A Broken Spirit To Kill A Body That Has Food, Water And Shelter?

No One Dies Of Nausea, But It Can Seriously Sap The Will To Live.