Nobody Lives Forever, But We All Shine

It's A Writer's Job To Carve With Language, To Hew Close To The Bone.

On That Gray Street, With The Smell Of Industrial Smokes In The Air And The Afternoon Bleeding Away To Evening, Downtown Derry Looked Only Marginally More Charming Than A Dead Hooker In A Church Pew.

You Are The Grim, Goal-oriented Ones Who Will Not Believe That The Joy Is In The Journey Rather Than The Destination No Matter How Many Times It Has Been Proven To You.

What Is Writing? Writing Is Telepathy.

Wow. This Makes Grand Central Look Like A Bus Stop In Buttfuck Nebraska.