A New Chapter In A

God Surely Did Not Create Us, And Cause Us To Live, With The Sole End Of Wishing Always To Die. I Believe, In My Heart, We Were Intended To Prize Life And Enjoy It, So Long As We Retain It. Existence Never Was Originally Meant To Be That Useless, Blank, Pale, Slow-trailing Thing It Often Becomes To Many, And Is Becoming To Me, Among The Rest.

I Tired Of The Routine Of Eight Years In One Afternoon.

Too Often Do Reviewers Remind Us Of The Mob Of Astrologers, Chaldeans, And Soothsayers Gathered Before 'the Writing On The Wall' And Unable To Read The Characters Or Make Known The Interpretation.

A New Chapter In A Novel Is Something Like A New Scene In A Play.

Let Your Performance Do The Thinking.