You Can Count The Dead, But You

One Small Cloud, Cast Out By The Herd, Limps Away To The West.

The Contemporary American Novelist Benefits In A Way From Being Ignored. It Makes You Angrier And Makes You Want To Go Into All Of Those Places Where You Shouldnt.

There Are Rocks Deep Enough In This Earth That No Matter What The Rupture, They Will Never See The Surface. There Is, I Think, A Fear Of Love. There Is A Fear Of Love.

Pain's Nothing. Pain's What You Give, Not What You Get.

There Is Always Room For At Least Two Truths.