So What If I'm Ninety-three?

Honey, I Plan To Marry You The Moment The Ink Is Dry On That Death Certificate.

I Have To Convince Myself That This Is Not A Pointless Life, Even The Body Is Telling Me So.

I Was Always Searching, Always Seeking The Next Big Thing, Because That Was The Thing That Was Going To Make Everything All Right Again. And While I Was Working Toward It, It Gave Me Something To Think About Other Than That Thing I Couldn't Put My Finger On. But It Always Came Back.

At This Moment, The Story In His Head Was Perfect. He Also Knew From Experience That It Would Degenerate The Second He Started Typing, Because Such Was The Nature Of Writing.

I Don't Like Outlining, Because Books Are Organic Things. Sometimes A Book Doesn't Want To Be Written In A Certain Way.