But The More Poetry One Reads The

If You Wish To Live, You Must First Attend Your Own Funeral.

I Am Treating You As My Friend, Asking You To Share My Present Minuses In The Hope That I Can Ask You To Share My Future Plusses.

It Is Strange That There Are Times When I Feel The Stars Are Not At All Solemn: They Are Secretly Gay.

Regret Is An Appalling Waste Of Time.

Regret Is An Appalling Waste Of Energy, And No One Who Intends To Be A Writer Can Afford To Indulge In It.