Make No Mistake, Those Who Write Long

Through All The Windows I Only See Infinity.

At The Heart Of Any Terror Is The Fear Of Losing What We Find Meaningful.

Heart May Still Be The Fire In Hearth But I'm Suddenly Too Cold To Continue, And Besides, There's No Hearth Here Anyway And It's The End Of June. Thursday. Almost Noon. And All The Buttons On My Corduroy Coat Are Gone. I Don't Know Why. I'm Sorry Hailey. I Don't Know What To Do.

Sublime Is Something You Choke On After A Shot Of Tequila.

The Greatest Of Love Letters Are Always Coded For The One And Not The Many.