I Seemed Busy, Busy, Busy, But I

The Tears That Kept Buttercup Company The Remainder Of The Day Were Not At All Like Those That Had Blinded Her Into The Tree Trunk. Those Were Noisy And Hot; They Pulsed. These Were Silent And Steady And All They Did Was Remind Her That She Wasn’t Good Enough. She Was Seventeen, And Every Male She’d Ever Known Had Crumbled At Her Feet And It Meant Nothing. The One Time It Really Mattered, She Wasn’t Good Enough.

I Can't Keep My Head Above Water One Minute To The Next: It's Not Just The Parties And The Goo-gooing With What's-her-name, I've Got The Decide How Long The Five Hundredth Anniversary Parade Is Going To Be And Where Does It Start And When Does It Start And Which Nobleman Gets To March In Front Of Which Other Nobleman So That Everyone's Still Speaking To Me At The End Of It, Plus I've Got A Wife To Murder And A Country To Frame For It, Plus I've Got To Get The War Going Once That's All Happened, And All This Is Stuff I've Got To Do Myself. Here's What It All Comes Down To: I'm Just Swamped, Ty.

When I Was Your Age, Television Was Called Books.

He Was The Mighty Fezzik, Lover Of Rhymes, And You Did Not Give Up, No Matter What.

You Have To Protect Your Writing Time. You Have To Protect It To The Death.