My Heart Goes Out To Him. Sort

If I'm Writing A Story And You're Reading It, Or Vice Versa, You Took Time Out Of Your Day To Pick Up My Book. I Think The One Thing That Will Kill That Relationship Is If You Feel Me Condescending To You In The Process. And How Does That Happen? Well, It Happens When I Know More Than You Do, And When I Know That I Know More Than You Do, And I'm Holding It Back From You. So That I Can Then Manipulate You At The End. You Know, You Think About Like In A Dating Situation How Terrible That Would Be, It's The Same Thing With A Book.

Working With Language Is A Means By Which We Can Identify The Bullshit Within Ourselves (and Others).

On One Level, I Am A Total Softie, Sort Of Depressed And Afraid Of Losing The People I Love Or Failing Them. To Disguise That, There's All This Harsh, Poop-centric, External Swagger, Full Of Nastiness. I'm A Cloaking Device.

At Times, They're So Right And I'm So Left, We Agree.

The Traveller Must, Of Course, Always Be Cautious Of The Overly Broad Generalisation. But I Am An American, And A Paucity Of Data Does Not Stop Me From Making Sweeping, Vague, Conceptual Statements And, If Necessary, Following These Statements Up With Troops.