I Became A Writer In Spite Of

One Man's Bane Is Another's Bliss.

Wits And Swords Are As Straws Against The Wisdom Of The Darkness.

Life Is But A Web Spun Of Ghosts And Dreams And Illusions.

It Is Not Pleasant To Come Upon Death In A Lonely Place At Midnight.

While We May Open The Books Of The Past, We May But Grant Flying Glances Of The Future, Through The Mist That Veils It.