I'm Scarcely An Enfant!

Failure Is The Condiment That Gives Success Its Flavor.

I Don't Want To Own Anything Until I Find A Place Where Me And Things Go Together.

Before Birth; Yes, What Time Was It Then? A Time Like Now, And When They Were Dead, It Would Be Still Like Now: These Trees, That Sky, This Earth, Those Acorn Seeds, Sun And Wind, All The Same, While They, With Dust-turned Hearts, Change Only.

I Think The Only Person A Writer Has An Obligation To Is Himself. If What I Write Doesn't Fulfill Something In Me, If I Don't Honestly Feel It's The Best I Can Do, Then I'm Miserable.

A Beautiful Day With The Buoyancy Of A Bird.