Luck Is Luck ... What We Do

A Woman Doesn't Want To Be Told She Looks Nice,' Jude Nuttered As She Sat Down Beside Maud's Grave. "she Wants To Be Told She's Beautiful, Sexy. That She Looks Outrageous. It Dosen't Matter If Its Not True.' She Sighed And Laid The Flowers Against The Headstone. 'because For The Moment, When The Words Are Said And The Words Are Heard, It's Perfect Truth.

I Think Writer Is A Word Without Gender, And A Good Writer Observes, Absorbs, Hopefully Empathizes Then Translates That Into Character And Story. You Don’t Have To Do Or Be Or Have Experienced, Traveled To, But You Have To Imagine All Of That, Very Well–and Believe It Completely During The Bubble Of The Work.

Love Makes Saints Or Sinners Out Of Men.

The Simple And Most Complex Answer Is Love.

Why Couldn't The Merciful God Turn Down The Sunlight So It Wasn't Blasting Like A Red Furnace Against His Aching Eyes? Because He'd Worshipped The God Of Beer, Thats Why. He'd Broken A Commandment And Worshipped The False And Foamy God Of Beer. And Now He Was Being Punished.