While Time, The Endless Idiot,

We Are Torn Between Nostalgia For The Familiar And An Urge For The Foreign And Strange. As Often As Not, We Are Homesick Most For The Places We Have Never Known.

There Are All These People Here I Don't Know By Sight Or By Name. And We Pass Alongside Each Other And Don't Have Any Connection. And They Don't Know Me And I Don't Know Them. And Now I'm Leaving Town And There Are All These People I Will Never Know.

The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter With Only One Desire! To Find Some Lasting Comfort In The Arms Of Anothers Fire...driven By A Desperate Hunger To The Arms Of A Neon Light, The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter When There's No Sign Of Love In Sight!

The Writer By Nature Of His Profession Is A Dreamer And A Conscious Dreamer. He Must Imagine, And Imagination Takes Humility, Love And Great Courage. How Can You Create A Character Without Live And The Struggle That Goes With Love?

I Think We Look For The Differences In People Because It Makes Us Less Lonely.