There's No Bad Writing; You Did Something.

I Cannot Live Or Write Without Music. It Stimulates The Normally Dormant Parts Of My Brain That Come In Handy When Constructing Fiction.

Home Is Where Somebody Notices When You Are No Longer There.

I Loved You Because There Was No Other Place For Me To Go. We Were Married Because We Did Not Know What Else To Do With Each Other. You Never Knew Me, Nothing About Me, What Died Inside Me, What Lived Invisibly.

All The Lives I Could Live, All The People I Will Never Know, Never Will Be, They Are Everywhere. That Is All That The World Is.

The Perfect Borscht Is What Life Should Be But Never Is.