You're An Enemy Of Art And I

I Know Something You Do Not Know. I Am Not Left-handed Either.

I Seemed Busy, Busy, Busy, But I Suppose, If Pressed, I Might Have Admitted That, For All My Frenzy, I Was Very Much Alone.

Chapter One. The Bride." He Held Up The Book Then. "i'm Reading It To You For Relax." He Practically Shoved The Book In My Face. "by S. Morgenstern. Great Florinese Writer. The Princess Bride. He Too Came To America. S. Morgenstern. Dead Now In New York. The English Is His Own. He Spoke Eight Tongues." Here My Father Put Down The Book And Held Up All His Fingers. "eight. Once In Florin City...

Cynics Are Simply Thwarted Romantics.

You Have To Protect Your Writing Time. You Have To Protect It To The Death.