Come On, Say It Again. I'm A

To Really Ask Is To Open The Door To The Whirlwind. The Answer May Annihilate The Question And The Questioner.

Aren't There Gradations Of Evil? Is Evil A Great Perilous Gulf Into Which One Falls With The First Sin, Plummeting To The Depth?

In The Spring Of 1988, I Returned To New Orleans, And As Soon As I Smelled The Air, I Knew I Was Home. It Was Rich, Almost Sweet, Like The Scent Of Jasmine And Roses Around Our Old Courtyard. I Walked The Streets, Savoring That Long Lost Perfume.

It Seems An Insult To The Night To Speak Of Purpose And Intent, When This Common Moment Is So Brimming Full Of Blessed Design Tranquility. All Things Follow Their Course.

Who Knows What The Hell A Government Is Or What The Hell A Government Does.