I Have Memories - But Only A

A Work Of Art Is An Act Of Love. Critics Are Crab Lice.

The Avalanche Of Time Sweeps Everything Before It. Every Individual Instant Hurtles Into Oblivion, Drowning Out The Obliteration Of The Instant Immediately Preceding It, And Then It Too Disappears Under The Onslaught Of The Next And The Next And The Next. When The Avalanche Has Shuddered Past For A Long Enough Time, The Perception Of The Past Evolves. Distant Events Grow Beyond Mere History And Take On The Weight Of Legend.

You Can Tell A Lot About A Civilization By The Quality Of The People Found In Its Jails.

Incompetency Fed On Itself.

Imagine Yourself In The Scene. See What There Is To Be Seen. Listen To The Sounds. Touch The World. Smell The Air. Taste It. Use All Of Your Senses. Then Evoke Those Experiences For The Reader. If You Give The Audience The Flavor, They'll Flesh Out The Moment In Their Own Imaginations.