A Fool Can Throw A Stone In

Death Is The Black Backing On The Mirror That Allows Us To See Anything At All.

If I'm Out Of My Mind, It's All Right With Me, Thought Moses Herzog.

How Should I Know Why! I Didn't Invent Human Beings, Iggy.

Writers Are Greatly Respected. The Intelligent Public Is Wonderfully Patient With Them, Continues To Read Them, And Endures Disappointment After Disappointment, Waiting To Hear From Art What It Does Not Hear From Theology, Philosophy, Social Theory, And What It Cannot Hear From Pure Science. Out Of The Struggle At The Center Has Come An Immense, Painful Longing For A Broader, More Flexible, Fuller, More Coherent, More Comprehensive Account Of What We Human Beings Are, Who We Are And What This Life Is For.

She Was What We Used To Call A Suicide Blonde - Dyed By Her Own Hand.