Dear Mr Skully, I Have Caught My

Sometimes You Write And You Find Yourself Almost Wondering How It Will Turn Out. I Don't Think Every Writer Sort Of Almost Admits That At Some Stage His Books Can Take On Their Own Kind Of Life It Selves And Simply Lead Away Into Directions That They're Not Kind Of Prepared For.

I'm Starved For Love. Not Ordinary Love But Real Love. The Love That's Like Music Or Something.

Writing Is Turning One's Worst Moments Into Money.

Dear Mr Skully, I Have Caught My Neck In A Mangle And Will Be Indisposed For Eternity. Yours In Death S.d.

If You're Going To Love Somebody, Love Somebody Who Needs It.