All Stories, If Continued Far Enough, End

There Is No Such Thing As Great Writing - There Is Only Great Re-writing!

His Talent Was As Natural As The Pattern That Was Made By The Dust On A Butterfly's Wings. At One Time He Understood It No More Than The Butterfly Did And He Did Not Know When It Was Brushed Or Marred.

It Is Good That We Do Not Have To Try To Kill The Sun Or The Moon Or The Stars. It Is Enough To Live On The Sea And Kill Our True Brothers.

The House Was Built On The Highest Part Of The Narrow Tongue Of Land Between The Harbor And The Open Sea. It Had Lasted Through Three Hurricanes And It Was Built Solid As A Ship.

The Writer's Job Is To Tell The Truth.