A Writer Wastes Nothing.

Tomorrow We Will Run Faster, Stretch Out Our Arms Farther.

You're A Slave, A Bound Helpless Slave To One Thing In The World, Your Imagination.

Long Ago, There Was Something In Me, But Now That Thing Is Gone. Now That Thing Is Gone, That Thing Is Gone. I Cannot Cry. I Cannot Care. That Thing Will Come Back No More.

If You're In Love It Ought To Make You Happy. You Ought To Laugh.

No One Person In The World Is Necessary To You Or To Me.