What A Bog And Labyrinth The Human

A Writers Job Is To Destroy And Then To Build The Thing Back Up Again By A Chosen Means.

I Wake My Wife Up At 3 A.m. And Say, "listen To This!"

Where Is The Angry Machine Of All Of Us? Why Is God Such A Blurred Magician? Why Are You Begging For Your Life If You Believe Those Things? Prove To Me That You’re Better Than The Rabbits We Ate Last Night.

You Need To See A Bit Of Hell Now And Then. That, And Great Joy.

The Deep South Might Be Wretched, But It Can Howl.