We All Dream Of Things We Cannot

Kind? How Boring That Would Be. I Aspire To Be Wicked.

Why Should Death Make A Man Truthful, Or Even Clever? The Dead Are Likely Dull Fellows, Full Of Tedious Complaints - The Ground's Too Cold, My Gravestone Should Be Larger, Why Does He Get More Worms Than I Do.

A True Man Does What He Will, Not What He Must.

Eat Your Heart Out, Rowling. Maybe You Have Billions Of Dollars And My Hugo, But You Don't Have Readers Like These.

When I Am Writing Best, I Really Am Lost In My World. I Lose Track Of The Outside World. I Have A Difficult Time Balancing Between My Real World And The Artificial World.