Outside, A Gusty October Breeze

Write With The Door Closed, Rewrite With The Door Open.

By The Time I Was Fourteen The Nail In My Wall Would No Longer Support The Weight Of The Rejection Slips Impaled Upon It. I Replaced The Nail With A Spike And Went On Writing.

I've Put Men To Death-men With Supposedly Immortal Souls-that Looked Dumber Than That Mouse

Time Takes It All, Whether You Want It To Or Not. Time Takes It All, Time Bears It Away, And In The End There Is Only Darkness. Sometimes We Find Others In That Darkness, And Sometimes We Lose Them There Again.

If The Stuff You're Writing Is Not For Yourself, It Won't Work.