Writing Is Not About Making A Buck,

There Is No Sound So Terrible As A Man's Sorrow For His Own Death.

Lucky Is The Spouse Who Dies First, Who Never Has To Know What Survivors Endure.

There Was An Author Who Titled His Books By Days Of The Weeks And Another One That Used Colors. Then There Was Edward Gorey Who Wrote The Book The Gashlycrumb Tinies, About The Untimely Death Of 26 Victorian Children, Each Representing A Letter Of The Alphabet. I Thought What A Great Way To Link The Titles.

I Write Letters To My Right Brain All The Time. They're Just Little Notes. And Right Brain, Who Likes To Get Little Notes From Me, Will Often Come Through Within A Day Or Two.

I've Never Known Anyone Yet Who Doesn't Suffer A Certain Restlessness When Autumn Rolls Around... We're All Eight Years Old Again And Anything Is Possible.