I never wanted to write a book, and people have asked me for years to do it.
Long hours trail in their purple and long years are lost in just this moment while our souls are near, our mouths separate.
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
She did not look at the daffodils. They didn't mean anything. She looked at the daffodils. She said, 'Thank you for the daffodils.
Escape from the power of the hunting pack, and to know that wisdom is best and beauty sheer holiness.
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Thus science may implement the ways in which man produces, stores, and consults the record of the race.
Drama drama drama. The public wants it, so let them get the whole ugly mess. Why not?
The Internet gave a place like, 'Oh, I'll do whatever I want now. Nobody's going to see it anyways. ' Oddly enough, people started watching and I got more confident, comfortable with it.
For a life to be fully yielded, it must wrestle the impossible and win.