The Only Mortal Sin Is Giving Up.

The Year She Had Run Fleetly Through The Dewy Grass Under The Moon- The Night Of Wine, When Dreams Condensed Out Of Thin Air Like The Nightmilk Of Fantasy.

It's A Tough Life If You Don't Weaken.

Language Does Not Always Have To Wear A Tie And Lace-up Shoes.

It Was Life, Often Unsatisfying, Frequently Cruel, Usually Boring, Sometimes Beautiful, Once In A While Exhilarating.

Remember In Elementary School You Were Told That In Case Of Fire You Have To Line Up Quietly In A Single File From Smallest To Tallest? What Is The Logic In That? What, Do Tall People Burn Slower?