What You Don't Read Is Often As

It Is Very Frustrating Not To Be Understood In This World. If You Say One Thing And Keep Being Told That You Mean Something Else, It Can Make You Want To Scream. But Somewhere In The World There Is A Place For All Of Us, Whether You Are An Electric Form Of Decoration, Peppermint-scented Sweet, A Source Of Timber, Or A Potato Pancake.

Goodness! Golly! Good God! Blessed Allah! Zeus And Hera! Mary And Joseph! Nathaniel Hawthorne! Don't Touch Her! Grab Her! Move Closer! Run Away! Don't Move! Kill The Snake! Leave It Alone! Give It Some Food! Don't Let It Bite Her! Lure The Snake Away! Here, Snakey! Here, Snakey Snakey!

When I Wrote Rick, I Had The Idea That I Would Take The Plot Of Nearly Every Opera And Turn It Into A Dark Film, Which Is Something I Still May Do.

Strange As It May Seem, I Still Hope For The Best, Even Though The Best, Like An Interesting Piece Of Mail, So Rarely Arrives, And Even When It Does It Can Be Lost So Easily.

I Think I’ve Always Believed That There Is One Person In The Universe Who You’re Truly Meant For–for Whom You Are Truly Meant–and The Fact That Sometimes There Are Two Or Even More People On The Earth You Can Fall In Love With Really Bothers Me. It Suggests That If You Work Hard You Can Be Meant For Anyone.