Writing A Book Is Like

Anyway, It's Gone. And There's Nothing Left In My Pocket To Charm You. So From Now On It's Going To Have To Be Tears Or Nothing I'm Afraid. That's All I've Got Left To Tell You See: Tears, Tears, Tears.

There Is No Such Thing As Originality. It Has All Been Said Before, Suffered Before. If A Person Knows That, Is It Any Wonder Love Becomes Mechanical And Death Just A Scene To Be Shunned? There Is No Absolute Knowledge To Be Gained From Either. Just Another Ride On The Merry-go-round, Another Blurred Scene Of Faces Smiling And Faces Grieved.

Mischief Nodded. 'it's True,' He Conceded. 'you're In The Company Of Eight World-class Thieves,' He Said, Not Without A Little Touch Of Pride. 'saints We Are Not.' But Then,' Said Deaux-deaux, 'who Is?' He Thought On This. 'besides Saints.

Welcome To The Worst Nightmare Of All, Reality!

I Don't Take Accusations Of Selling Out Lightly.