The Truth Doesn't Have To Do With

Listen, Wait, And Be Patient. Every Shaman Knows You Have To Deal With The Fire That's In Your Audience's Eye.

Then - As He Was Talking - A Set Of Tail-lights Going Past Lit Up Mcmurphy's Face, And The Windshield Reflected An Expression That Was Allowed Only Because He Figured It'd Be Too Dark For Anybody In The Car To See, Dreadfully Tired And Strained And Frantic, Like There Wasn't Enough Time Left For Something He Had To Do.

To Vik Lovell Who Told Me Dragons Did Not Exist, Then Led Me To Their Lairs.

I'd Take A Look At My Own Self In The Mirror And Wonder How It Was Possible That Anybody Could Manage Such An Enormous Thing As Being What He Was.

The Job Of The Writer Is To Kiss No Ass, No Matter How Big And Holy And White And Tempting And Powerful.