I Can Write Anywhere.

Beware, O Wanderer, The Road Is Walking Too.

I Rarely Read Or Buy A Book Because Of A Review.

We Set This House On Fire Forgetting That We Live Within.

I Had Let My Digust With Teaching Ruin My Love Of Literature.

It Is Utterly Soothing To Fly Fish For Trout. All Other Considerations Or Worries Drift Away And You Couldn't Keep Them Close If You Wanted. Perhaps It's Standing Thigh Deep In A River With The Water Passing At The Exact But Varying Speed Of Life. You Easily Recognize This Mortality And It Dissipates Into The Landscape.