I Got To Wear Blinders All The

She Was Afraid Of These Things That Made Her Suddenly Wonder Who She Was, And What She Was Going To Be In The World, And Why She Was Standing At That Minute, Seeing A Light, Or Listening, Or Staring Up Into The Sky: Alone.

Love Is The Main Generator Of All Good Writing... Love, Passion, Compassion, Are All Welded Together.

In His Face There Came To Be A Brooding Peace That Is Seen Most Often In The Faces Of The Very Sorrowful Or The Very Wise. But Still He Wandered Through The Streets Of The Town, Always Silent And Alone.

You Don't Know What It Is To Store Up A Lot Of Details And Then Come Upon Something Real.

The Trouble With Me Is That For A Long Time I Have Just Been An I Person. All People Belong To A We Except Me. Not To Belong To A We Makes You Too Lonesome.