There Was A Beautiful Time.

The Constant Struggle In Mature Life, I Think, Is To Accept The Necessity Of Tragedy And Conflict, And Not To Try To Escape To Some Falsely Simple Solution Which Does Not Include These More Somber Complexities.

August Rain: The Best Of The Summer Gone, And The New Fall Not Yet Born. The Odd Uneven Time.

A Ring Of Gold With The Sun In It? Lies. Lies And A Grief.

The Worst Enemy To Creativity Is Self-doubt.

I Wish You’d Find The Exit Out Of My Head.