I Started A Grease Fire At Mcdonald's

No Art Comes From The Conscious Mind.

Were They Beautiful? We Were All Beautiful. We Were In Our Twenties.

The Emotions Of Men, However, Were Of A Different Order. They Were Pesky Annoyances, Small Dust Devils At Her Feet. Her Knack For Causing Heartbreak Was Innate, But Her Vitality Often Made People Forgive Her Romantic Misdeeds.

When Someone Less Capable Is Ahead Of Me, I Am Not Pleased. It Makes Me Insane.

You Can't Make Something Beautiful By Trying To Make Something Beautiful. Something Becomes Beautiful In The Process Of Trying To Be Something Else.