No Man May Make Another Free.

The Game Of Keeping What One Has Is Never So Exciting As The Game Of Getting.

...she Woke Up In Time To See The Sun Sending Up Spies Ahead Of Him To Mark Out The Road Through The Dark. He Peeped Up Over The Door Sill Of The World And Made A Little Foolishness With Red.

Perhaps, It Is Just As Well To Be Rash And Foolish For A While. If Writers Were Too Wise, Perhaps No Books Would Be Written At All. It Might Be Better To Ask Yourself "why?" Afterwards Than Before. Anyway, The Force From Somewhere In Space Which Commands You To Write In The First Place, Gives You No Choice. You Take Up The Pen When You Are Told, And Write What Is Commanded. There Is No Agony Like Bearing An Untold Story Inside You.

Want Won't Kill You Half As Quick As Worry Will.

When I Pitched Headforemost Into The World I Landed In The Crib Of Negroism.