An Idea Is Like A Cold Germ:

We Never Cease Wanting What We Want, Whether It's Good For Us Or Not.

The Turtle Couldn't Help Us.

It Was Like Drowning, Only From The Inside Out.

Like Some Dogs: Kick Them Once And They Never Trust You Again, No Matter How Nice You Are To Them.

As It Happened, All Three Of Us Turned Out To Be Real Writers--a Coincidence Almost Too Large To Be Termed Mere Coincidence In A Society Where Literally Tens Of Thousands (maybe Hundreds Of Thousands) Of College Students Aspire To The Writer's Trade And Where Bare Hundreds Actually Break Through.