But Death We Are, And Death We've

What Is Written Beneath This Heavy Handsome Book Cover Will Count, So Sayeth This Cover.

Merciful Death. How You Love Your Precious Guilt

It Seems An Insult To The Night To Speak Of Purpose And Intent, When This Common Moment Is So Brimming Full Of Blessed Design Tranquility. All Things Follow Their Course.

Writers Write About What Obsesses Them. You Draw Those Cards. I Lost My Mother When I Was 14. My Daughter Died At The Age Of 6. I Lost My Faith As A Catholic. When I'm Writing, The Darkness Is Always There. I Go Where The Pain Is.

We Would Make Our Heroes Shallow.... We Would Make Them Brittle. It Is They Who Must Remind Us Of The True Meaning Of Strength.