You Know That The Urge For Revenge

When People Leave, They Always Seem To Scoop Themselves Out Of You.

Art Doesn't Exist If You Just Do What You're Told. It Only Exists As An Exercise Of Individual Taste And Freedom.

I Readily Admit It Is Easy To Make Of Horses What We Will. Silent, In Some Ways Reserved, They Allow Us To Train Them, And To Project Our Ideas Upon Them; To Ride And Drive Them, And To Make Them Symbolic, Perhaps To A Greater Degree Than Any Other Species.

An Urban Novelist Never Minds A Little Decay.

Because Your Goal Is A Complete Rough Draft Of A Novel, And Every Rough Draft, By Being Complete, Is Perfect.