The Truth Is Always An Abyss.

The Purpose Of A Story Is To Be An Axe That Breaks Up The Ice Within Us.

Writers Speak Stench.

I Can Love Only What I Can Place So High Above Me That I Cannot Reach It.

I Do Not Speak As I Think, I Do Not Think As I Should, And So It All Goes On In Helpless Darkness.

Just Think How Many Thoughts A Blanket Smothers While One Lies Alone In Bed, And How Many Unhappy Dreams It Keeps Warm.