I Think She Always Nursed A Small

The Summer Night Was Starless And Stirless, With Distant Spasms Of Silent Lightning.

All Religions Are Based On Obsolete Terminology.

Imagine Me; I Shall Not Exist If You Do Not Imagine Me; Try To Discern The Doe In Me, Trembling In The Forest Of My Own Iniquity; Let's Even Smile A Little. After All, There Is No Harm In Smiling.

Style And Structure Are The Essence Of A Book; Great Ideas Are Hogwash.

My Answer To Your Question'does The Writer Have A Social Responsibility?' Is No.you Owe Me Ten Cents, Sir.