Salt. Wound. Together At Last.

What Are You?" I Asked. "i'm The Ghost Of The Night Before Exams." "and How Long Did It Take You To Come Up With That?" Jazza Asked. "i'm A Busy Man," He Replied.

Writing Is One Of The Few Careers For Which You Essentially Train Yourself, The Other Two Major Ones Being Juggling And Pickpocketing.

There Is No Normal. I've Never Met A Normal Person. The Concept Is Flawed. It Implies That There Is Only One Way People Are Supposed To Be, And That Can't Possible Be True. Human Experience Is Far Too Varied.

I Miss You So Much It's Giving Me A Pain In My Pancreas.

I Had Always Assumed The Weekend Was A Holy Tradition, Respected By Good People Everywhere. Not So At Wexford.