I Work Until Beer O'clock.

There Is No Tyrant As Merciless As Pain.

Talent Is A Dreadfully Cheap Commodity, Cheaper Than Table Salt. What Separates The Talented Individual From The Successful One Is A Lot Of Hard Work And Study; A Constant Process Of Honing. Talent Is A Dull Knife That Will Cut Nothing Unless It Is Wielded With Great Force.

Our Memories Have Voices, Too. Often Sad Ones That Clamor Like Raised Arms In The Dark.

The Loss Of Memory Isn't Always The Problem; Sometimes--maybe Even Often--it's The Solution.

Only Two Things Happen To Writers When They Die: Either Their Work Survives, Or It Becomes Forgotten.