No One You Love Is Ever Truly

There Are Two Kinds Of Stories, The Ones You Live And The Ones You Make Up. And Nobody Knows The Difference, And I Don't Ever Tell Which Is Which.

Writing Is The Clumsy Attempt To Find Symbols For Wordlessness.

Before You Quit, You Have To Try

In The Spring Mornings I Would Work Early While My Wife Still Slept. The Windows Were Open Wide And The Cobbles Of The Street Were Drying After The Rain.

The Shortest Answer Is Doing The Thing.