How Long Should A Man's

People Are Always Ruining Things For You.

I Felt So Lonesome, All Of A Sudden. I Almost Wished I Was Dead.

Just Go To Bed, Now. Quickly. Quickly And Slowly.

Your Heart, Bessie, Is An Autumn Garage.

There Is A Marvelous Peace In Not Publishing. It's Peaceful. Still. Publishing Is A Terrible Invasion Of My Privacy. I Like To Write. I Live To Write. But I Write Just For Myself And My Own Pleasure. I Don't Necessarily Intend To Publish Posthumously, But I Do Like To Write For Myself. I Pay For This Kind Of Attitude. I'm Known As A Strange, Aloof Kind Of Man. But All I'm Doing Is Trying To Protect Myself And My Work.