Life's waters flow from darkness, Search the darkness, don't run from it.
I set off, off to kill the man I loved.
Nobody from the administration has officially rejected my column.
My mind is like a gyre, and odd juxtapositions happen.
The F-22 is a shameful, disgraceful boondoggle and it revolts me.
Autobiography is a genre notorious for falsehood.
The hard fact is that not everyone does get published.
If all else fails, there's always print or web zines.
It sets a dangerous precedent. For avoiding pain? For avoiding life.
I live not in dreams but in contemplation of a reality that is perhaps the future.
'Tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion.
A little in drink, but at all times your faithful husband.
At the end of the day, the markets are my passion.
The Devil, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing.
Everybody, soon or late, sits down to a banquet of consequences.
Once you are married, there is nothing left for you, not even suicide.
I regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion.
Nothing made by brute force lasts.
I was forever reading outside of the field as well as in it.
I remember little of the Yukon or what I wrote there.
Wild horses wouldn't draw it from you?
