When I Write, I Strain With Every

What You Accomplish In Life Is Limited Only By Your Imagination And The Fear Of Reprisal. Life Is Too Fleeting And Unrewarding To Have To Live With The Added Anus Of Indignity. The Denial Of One's Inevitable Demise Is What Causes Most Of The Astringent Blandness In The World. When Your Existence Ends Most Certainly In Death, There Is No Such Thing As 'going Too Far'. There Are No 'lines' You Should Fear To Cross Except The Finish Line. Playing It Safe Is The Most Dangerous Thing You Could Do.

Governments Throughout The English-speaking Sphere Are Creating And Then Ratcheting The Torque On "hate-speech" Laws With Frightening Eagerness.

In My Long, Long Years Toiling Around The Publishing Industry, I've Found That Women Simply Don't Stick To The Writing With The Same Fervor That Men Do.

You Truly Need To Witness Me Goo-gooing And Coo-cooing And Making Up Goofy Little Songs To Glean A Full Appreciation Of How Nauseating I Can Be. This Is Another Instance Where Things Seemingly Don't Add Up - How Can This Vile, Hateful, Violent, Misogynist, Racist, Loathsome, Repugnant, Worthless, Reprehensible Subhuman Be So Insanely Tender And Kind To Little Doggies And Kitty-cats?

Most Of Those Who Spend Their Lives As Critics Secretly Wish They'd Be Considered Important Enough For Someone To Bother Criticizing Them.