Show The Readers Everything, Tell

I Had Seen Nothing Sacred, And The Things That Were Glorious Had No Glory And The Sacrifices Were Like The Stockyards At Chicago If Nothing Was Done With The Meat Except To Bury It.

You Can't Get Away From Yourself By Moving From One Place To Another.

I Read My Own Books Sometimes To Cheer Me When It Is Hard To Write, And Then I Remember That It Was Always Difficult, And How Nearly Impossible It Was Sometimes.

Why, Darling, I Don't Live At All When I'm Not With You.

As In No Other Form Of Lute Or Combat, The Conditions Are Such; The Winner Takes Nothing, Neither His Ease, Nor His Pleasure, Nor Any Notion Of Glory, Nor If He Wins Far Enough, Will He Find Anything Within Himself.