What Good Are Insights? They Only Make

Woke Up This Morning With A Terrific Urge To Lie In Bed All Day And Read. Fought Against It For A Minute. Then Looked Out The Window At The Rain. And Gave Over. Put Myself Entirely In The Keep Of This Rainy Morning. Would I Live My Life Over Again? Make The Same Unforgivable Mistakes? Yes, Given Half A Chance. Yes.

Ralph Also Took Some Classes In Philosophy And Literature And Felt Himself On The Brink Of Some Kind Of Huge Discovery About Himself. But It Never Came.

All Of Us, All Of Us, All Of Us Trying To Save Our Immortal Souls, Some Ways Seemingly More Round About And Mysterious Than Others. We Are Having A Good Time Here. But Hope All Will Be Revealed Soon.

Something’s Died In Me,” She Goes. “it Took A Long Time For It To Do It, But It’s Dead. You’ve Killed Something, Just Like You’d Took An Axe To It. Everything Is Dirt Now.

A Great Danger, Or At Least A Great Temptation, For Many Writers Is To Become Too Autobiographical In Their Approach To Their Fiction. A Little Autobiography And A Lot Of Imagination Are Best.