The Truth Is, Part Of Me Is

The Second Death. To Think That You Died And No One Would Remember You. I Wondered If This Was Why We Tried So Hard To Make Our Mark In America. To Be Known. Think Of How Important Celebrity Has Become. We Sing To Get Famous; Expose Our Worst Secrets To Get Famous; Lose Weight, Eat Bugs, Even Commit Murder To Get Famous. Our Young People Post Their Deepest Thoughts On Public Web Sites. They Run Cameras From Their Bedrooms. It’s As If We Are Screaming Notice Me! Remember Me! Yet The Notoriety Barely Lasts. Names Quickly Blur And In Time Are Forgotten.

And In That Line Now Was A Whiskered Old Man, With A Linen Cap And A Crooked Nose, Who Waited In A Place Called The Stardust Band Shell To Share His Part Of The Secret Of Heaven: That Each Affects The Other And The Other Affects The Next, And The World Is Full Of Stories, But The Stories Are All One.

You Have To Find What’s Good And True And Beautiful In Your Life As It Is Now. Looking Back Makes You Competitive. And, Age Is Not A Competitive Issue.

People Are Only Mean When They're Threatened, And That's What Our Culture Does...and When You Get Threatened, You Start Looking Out Only For Yourself. You Start Making Money A God. It Is All Part Of This Culture.

I Had A Very High-grade Publisher Tell Me I Was Incapable Of Writing A Memoir.