No One Inspired Me To Write, But

Each Heart Has Its Graveyard, Each Household Its Dead, And Knells Ring Around Us Wherever We Tread, And The Feet That Awhile Made Our Pathway So Bright Pass On To A Land That Is Out Of Our Sight.

Prison Always Has Been A Good Place For Writers, Killing, As It Does, The Twin Demons Of Mobility And Diversion

The Victorians, They Were Like The Germans In World War Ii. They Could Not Stop Recording Details About Their Lives And Their Age.

Losing Our Ignorance Can Be Dangerous Because Our Ignorance Is A Shield.

Its Hard To Die. Harder To Live