Because The Hardest Boss A Man Can

Life Isn't Always A Butcher's Game. Sometimes The Prizes Are Real. Sometimes They're Precious.

Your Plan And The Stuff That Comes Out Of My Asshole Bear A Suspicious Resemblance To Each Other.

She Knew With Suddeness And Ease That This Moment Would Be With Her Always, Within Hand's Reach Of Memory. She Doubted If They All Sensed It - They Had Seen The World - But Even George Was Silent For A Minute As They Looked, And The Scene, The Smell, Even The Sound Of The Band Playing A Faintly Recognisable Movie Theme, Was Locked Forever In Her, And She Was At Peace.

Memory Is The Basis Of Every Journey.

A Cloud-congested Caul That Is Alternately Red, Orange, Vermilion, Purple. Sometimes The Clouds Break Apart In Great, Slow Rafts, Letting Through Beams Of Innocent Yellow Sunlight That Are Bitterly Nostalgic For The Summer That Has Gone By.