He Might Be A Man Without Character,

Happiness Is Seasonal, Like Anything Else

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.

The Hard Thing About Death Is That Nothing Ever Changes. The Hard Thing About Life Is That Nothing Stays The Same.

I Made The Rules I Figured I Could Be The One To Break Them. I Thought I Would Write About Xenophobia, A Hatred Of Foreigners. After I Stated Writing The Story There Was Not A Foreigner To Be Had. I Did Not Want To Just Stick One In There So I Could Get A Title Out Of It Since It Seemed Like Cheating. I Never Figured Out How I Could Get Out Of This Dilemma So I Just Called It X And Weaved X Traits Into The Story.

Sometimes The Hardest Part Of My Job Is The Incessant Reminder Of The Fact We're All Trying So Assiduously To Ignore: We Are Here Temporarily. Life Is Only Ours On Loan.