Like Species, Couples Die Out Or Evolve.

I Mourn In Grey, Grey As The Sleeted Wind The Bled Shades Of Twilight, Gunmetal, Battleships, Industrial Paint.

The Price Of Seeing Is Silence.

Every Baby Born Unloved, Unwanted, Is A Bill That Will Come Due In Twenty Years With Interest, An Anger That Must Find A Target, A Pain That Will Beget Pain. A Decade Downstream A Child Screams, A Woman Falls, A Synagogue Is Torched, A Firing Squad Is Summoned, A Button Is Pushed And The World Burns.

I Wasn't Afraid Of Being Poor; I Rather Took It For Granted. I Was Good At Getting By With Very Little. I Couldn't Imagine Sacrificing My Writing To Anything Else.

Live As If You Like Yourself, And It May Happen.