People Do Too Much. They Say Too

There Is Moss On The Walls And The Stain Of Thought And Failure And Waiting

The Crowd Is The Gathering Place Of The Weakest; True Creation Is A Solitary Act.

Not Everybody Thought They Could Be A Dentist Or An Automobile Mechanic But Everybody Knew They Could Be A Writer.

Magic Persists Without Us No Matter What We May Do To Try To Spoil It

I'll Get Back To The Whores And The Horses And The Booze, While There's Time.