I Do Not Have Any Home. So

We Live In The Richest Country In The World. There's Plenty And To Spare For No Man, Woman, Or Child To Be In Want. And In Addition To This Our Country Was Founded On What Should Have Been A Great, True Principle - The Freedom, Equality, And Rights Of Each Individual. Huh! And What Has Come Of That Start? There Are Corporations Worth Billions Of Dollars - And Hundreds Of Thousands Of People Who Don't Get To Eat.

Nothing Is So Musical As The Sound Of Pouring Bourbon For The First Drink On A Sunday Morning. Not Bach Or Schubert Or Any Of Those Masters.

Love Is The Main Generator Of All Good Writing... Love, Passion, Compassion, Are All Welded Together.

The Music Left Only This Bad Hurt In Her, And A Blankness. She Could Not Remember Any Of The Symphony, Not Even The Last Few Notes. She Tried To Remember, But No Sound At All Came To Her. Now That It Was Over There Was Only Her Heart Like A Rabbit And This Terrible Hurt.

The Writer Is By Nature A Dreamer - A Conscious Dreamer.