Life Is Nothing But A Statement Of

You Can't Blame Me. I Mean That Literally. You're Incapable Of Blaming Me. You're Human. Being Human Is Choosing Freedom Over Imprisonment, Autonomy Over Dependency, Liberty Over Servitude. You Can't Blame Me Because You Know (come On, Man, You've Always Known) That The Idea Of Spending Eternity With Nothing To Do Except Praise God Is Utterly Unappealing. You'd Be Catatonic After An Hour. Heaven's A Swiz Because To Get In You Have To Leave Yourself Outside. You Can't Blame Me Because -- Now Do Please Be Honest With Yourself For Once -- You'd Have Left, Too.

Home Pulls. It Draws You Back To Tell You You Don't Belong.

I Don't Remember The First Image Of A Werewolf I Saw, But I Suspect It Was The Hybrid Type, Up On Two Legs, With Long Limbs, Hair, Claw-like Fingernails And Lupine Head. To Me There's Nothing Scary About Complete Transformation From Human Into Wolf. Wolves Aren't Scary. They're Dangerous, Yes, But So Are Geese, In The Wrong Mood. What's Scary Is Seeing The Human In The Wolf But Knowing It's Beyond The Reach Of Reason Or Emotional Appeal. That's Where The Horror And Dread Kicks In.

We’re The Worst Thing Because For Us The Worst Thing Is The Best Thing. And It’s Only The Best Thing For Us If It’s The Worst Thing For Someone Else.

The Only Animal From Which Humans Have Nothing To Learn, In Fact, Is The Sheep. Humans Have Already Learned Everything The Sheep's Got To Teach.