"it Doesn't Matter How Long It Takes."

He Sipped His Coffee, Watched The Flames. "you Gave Me My Life, You Did," He Insisted When Summerset Made A Protesting Sound. "and I Worked-in My Fashion- To Build This Place. I Asked You To Tend It For Me. You've Never Let Me Down. But I Needed Her. The One Thing, The Only Thing That Could Make This Place Home." "she's Not What I Would Have Chosen For You" "oh, That I Know" "but She's Right For You. The One For You." Despite, Or Maybe Due To, Her Many Flaws" "i Imagine She Thinks The Same Thing About You". Memory In Death, Roarke And Summerset

Why Were There No Buoys In Life To Show You The Way?

That's Possible To Likely. We're Involved, You And Me. I'm Telling You What I'm Going To Do Because I Figure When People Are Involved, When They Matter, They Tell Each Other.

I Don't Let Myself Believe In Writer's Block. I Feel Very Strongly Writing Is Habit As Much As An Art Or A Craft. And If You Write Crap, You're Still Writing.

I Can Fix A Bad Page. I Can't Fix A Blank Page.