Literature Is The Product Of

I Decided To Tell The Truth Even If It Meant Being Pointed At.

Literature Is The Product Of A Strange Rain Of Blood, Sweat, Semen, And Tears.

As Time Goes By, As Time Goes By, The Whip-crack Of The Years, The Precipice Of Illusions, The Ravine That Swallows Up All Human Endeavour Except The Struggle To Survive.

The Sky, At Sunset, Looked Like A Carnivorous Flower.

The Secret Story Is The One We'll Never Know, Although We're Living It From Day To Day, Thinking We're Alive, Thinking We've Got It All Under Control And The Stuff We Overlook Doesn't Matter.