The Walls Are The Publishers

So Many Stories, And To Choose Which Ones To Tell And How To Tell Them. The Words, They Will Tap Me On The Shoulder And They Will Speak To Me: Tell Me! Tell Me! The Stories Choose Me.

A Pretty Move, For The Love Of God.

Charity, Vertical, Humiliates. Solidarity, Horizontal, Helps.

Each Time A New War Is Disclosed In The Name Of The Fight Of The Good Against Evil, Those Who Are Killed Are All Poor. It's Always The Same Story Repeating Once And Again And Again.

I'm Not Asking You To Describe The Rain Falling The Night The Archangel Arrived; I'm Demanding That You Get Me Wet. Make Up Your Mind, Mr. Writer, And For Once In Your Life Be The Flower That Smells Rather Than The Chronicler Of The Aroma. There's Not Much Pleasure In Writing What You Live. The Challenge Is To Live What You Write.