Man Plans. God Laughs.

I Would Never Write A Memoir, Because It Would Be Too Boring.

Years Fly By, But The Heart Stays In The Same Place.

An Hour Before His World Exploded Like A Ripe Tomato Under A Stiletto Heel, Myron Bit Into A Fresh Pastry That Tasted Suspiciously Like Urinal Cake.

I Used To Wonder Why Lucy Liked Those Songs So Much. You Know What I Mean? She Sits In The Dark And Listens And Cries. Music Does That To Her...i Didn't Understand For A Long Time. But I Do Now. The Sad Songs Are A Safe Hurt. It's A Diversion. It's Controlled. And Maybe It Helps You Imagine That Real Pain Will Be Like That. But It's Not. Lucy Knows That, Of Course. You Can't Prepare For Real Pain. You Just Have To Let It Rip You Apart.

I Like To See The Difference Between Good And Evil As Kind Of Like The Foul Line At A Baseball Game. It's Very Thin, It's Made Of Something Very Flimsy Like Lime, And If You Cross It, It Really Starts To Blur Where Fair Becomes Foul And Foul Becomes Fair.