What Man Would Dare Believe That All

As Many Have Noted, The Peril For Authors Is That Our Work Space Is Too Easily Our Play Space.

The Deeds Of Men, As Footprints In The Desert. Nothing Under The Circling Moons Is Fated To Last. Even The Sun Goes Down.

What Man Would Dare Believe That All He Planned Might Come To Pass?

She Was Owner And Captive, Both, Of A Bitterly Divided Heart.

We Must Be What We Are, Or We Become Our Enemies.