You Can't Let Facts Get In The

The Mad Sometimes Drilled Holes In Their Own Heads To Let The Demons Out. To Relieve The Pressure Of Thoughts They Could No Longer Bear. Jude Understood The Impulse. Each Beat Of His Heart Was A Fresh And Staggering Blow Felt In The Nerves Behind His Eyes And In His Temples. Punishing Evidence Of Life.

She'd Thought Love Had Something To Do With Happiness, But It Turned Out They Were Not Even Vaguely Related. Love Was Closer To A Need, No Different From The Need To Eat, To Breathe.

The Soul May Not Be Destroyed. The Soul Goes On Forever. Like The Number Pi, It Is Without Cessation Or Conclusion. Like Pi It Is A Constant. Pi Is An Irrational Number, Incapable Of Being Made Into A Fraction, Impossible To Divide From Itself. So, Too, The Soul Is An Irrational, Indivisible Equation That Perfectly Expresses One Thing: You.

She Just Knew That Even When You Had Nothing, You Still Had Love.

I Remember An Era When You Could Get Your Nose Sliced Off For Sticking It Too Far Into Another Man's Business. Now You Can Find Out Anything About Anyone With The Click Of A Button. There Is No Privacy And No Consideration, And Everyone Is Prying Into Things That Aren't Their Affair. You Can Probably Check On The Intertube And Find Out What Color Underwear I Have On Today.