You Can't Let Facts Get In The

Don't Believe Everything You Hear Today

I'll Take The Shooting. I'm Used To That. I've Been Shot A Few Times In The Past, And I Guess I Can Stand It, Again.

Music [is] The Third Rail Of Life. You Grabbed It To Shock Yourself Out Of The Dull Drag Of Hours. To Feel Something. To Burn With All The Emotions You Didn't Get To Experience In The Ordinary Run Of School, Tv, And Loading The Dishwasher After Dinner.

She Breathed Deeply Of The Scent Of Decaying Fiction, Disintegrating History, And Forgotten Verse, And She Observed For The First Time That A Room Full Of Books Smelled Like Dessert: A Sweet Snack Made Of Figs, Vanilla, Glue, And Cleverness.

What A Blessed If Painful Thing, This Business Of Being Alive.