For Most Of Us, I

When A Good Writer Is Having Fun, The Audience Is Almost Always Having Fun Too.

He Began To Cry, Not Hysterically Or Screaming As People Cry When Concealed Rage With Tears, But With Continuous Sobs Who Has Just Discovered That He's Alone And Will Be For Long. He Cried Because Safety And Reason Seemed To Have Left The World. Loneliness Was A Reality, But In This Situation Madness Was Also Remotely A Possibility.

Adults Are The Real Monsters.

I Think That's What People Most Always Do With The Stuff They Can't Make Out - Just Forget It.

On The Day Of My Judgment, When I Stand Before God, And He Asks Me Why Did I Kill One Of His True Miracles, What Am I Gonna Say? That It Was My Job? My Job?