The Dead Are The Only People To

Show Me A Writer, Any Writer, Who Hasn't Suffered And I'll Show You Someone Who Writes In Pastels As Opposed To Primary Colors.

Oh Well, Maybe The Only Beauty Left In Cities Is In The Oil Slicks On The Road And Maybe There Isn't Any Beauty Left In The People Who Live In These Places.

Dad Could Charm A Dog Off A Meat Wagon.

No Government Has The Right To Tell Its Citizens When Or Whom To Love

Every Day You're Alive And Someone Loves You Is A Miracle.