I Am Tired. My Arm

Today I Began The Novel That I Determined To Be Great.

Adam Larey Gazed With Hard And Wondering Eyes Down The Silent Current Of The Red River Upon Which He Meant To Drift Away Into The Desert

What Makes Life Worth Living? Better Surely, To Yield To The Stain Of Suicide Blood In Me And Seek Forgetfulness In The Embrace Of Cold Dark Death.

Writing Was Like Digging Coal. I Sweat Blood. The Spell Is On Me.

A Good Rule Of Angling Philosophy Is Not To Interfere With Any Fishermans Ways Of Being Happy, Unless You Want To Be Hated.