The Dead Are Merely The Countrymen Of

Although I've Said A Million Times That I'm Not A Horror Writer, I Do Like Horror.

Maybe I'm Needy, Neurotic, Paranoid. Under The Circumstances, Of Course, If I Weren't Needy, Neurotic, And Paranoid, I'd Obviously Be Psychotic.

The Answer To The Mystery Of Existence Is The Love You Shared Sometimes So Imperfectly, And When The Loss Wakes You To The Deeper Beauty Of It, To The Sanctity Of It, You Can't Get Off Your Knees For A Long Time, You're Driven To Your Knees Not By The Weight Of The Loss But By Gratitude For What Preceded The Loss.

Even If God Exists, Does He Know That You Do?

Human Beings Can Always Be Relied Upon To Exert, With Vigor, Their God-given Right To Be Stupid.