I Tend Not To Analyse

Danger And Anger Are Everywhere. Love Is The Rarity, The Gem Buried In The Core Of The Mine, The Outpost Of God.

Hope Is A Punishable Offense. The Verdict Is Always Death; One More Death Of The Heart.

I Held Out My Book. It Was Precious To Me, As Were All The Things I'd Written; Even Where I Despised Their Inadequacy There Was Not One I Would Disown. Each Tore Its Way From My Entrails. Each Had Shortened My Life, Killed Me With Its Own Special Little Death.

I Think Of Myself As A Storyteller, And That Is It.

You Should Visit Before You Pass Judgment On A Place.