I've Killed Enough Of The

In Many Ways, Eulah-beulah Prepared Me For Literary Criticism. After Having A Two-hundred-pound Babysitter Fart On Your Face And Yell Pow!, The Village Voice Holds Few Terrors.

I Never Had Any Friends Later On Like The Ones I Had When I Was 12 - Jesus, Did You?

There Is Zero, And There Is Eternity, And There Is Mortality, But There Is No Ultimate.

As With All Other Aspects Of The Narrative Art, You Will Improve With Practice, But Practice Will Never Make You Perfect. Why Should It? What Fun Would That Be?

It Was Like Drowning, Only From The Inside Out.