You Can Always Count On A Murderer

In And Out Of My Heart Flowed My Rainbow Blood.

Our Best Yesterdays Are Now Foul Piles Of Crumpled Names.

The Writer's Job Is To Get The Main Character Up A Tree, And Then Once They Are Up There, Throw Rocks At Them.

I Cannot Conceive How Anybody In His Right Mind Should Go To A Psychoanalyst.

Only One Letter Divides The Comic From The Cosmic.