The Language Of Sin Was Universal, The

I Am; I Was. I Want To Be.

I Remind Myself That No One Day Of Writing Matters All That Much. A Story Is Built Somewhat Like A Stalactite - One Little Drip Of Mud And Grit At A Time.

Don't Mourn, Organise

The Language Of Sin Was Universal, The Original Esperanto.

A Pamphlet, No Matter How Good, Is Never Read More Than Once, But A Song Is Learned By Heart And Repeated Over And Over. And I Maintain That If A Person Can Put A Few Common Sense Facts Into A Song And Dress Them Up In A Cloak Of Humor, He Will Succeed In Reaching A Great Number Of Workers Who Are Too Unintelligent Or Too Indifferent To Read.