The Game Of Life Is Good, Though

Of Her Own Experience She Had No Memory Of The Thing Happening; But In Her Instinct, Which Was The Experience Of All Mothers Of Wolves, There Lurked A Memory Of Fathers That Had Eaten Their New-born And Helpless Progeny.

Don't Write Too Much. Concentrate Your Sweat On One Story, Rather Than Dissipate It Over A Dozen.

Life? Bah! It Has No Value. Of Cheap Things It Is The Cheapest. Everywhere It Goes Begging. Nature Spills It Out With A Lavish Hand. Where There Is Room For One Life, She Sows A Thousand Lives, And It's Life Eats Life Till The Strongest And Most Piggish Life Is Left.

All My Life I Have Had An Awareness Of Other Times And Places. I Have Been Aware Of Other Persons In Me. Oh, And Trust Me, So Have You, My Reader That Is To Be. Read Back Into Your Childhood, And This Sense Of Awareness I Speak Of Will Be Remembered As An Experience Of Childhood. You Were Then Not Fixed, Not Crystallized. You Were Plastic, A Soul In Flux, A Consciousness And An Identity In The Process Of Forming--ay, Of Forming And Forgetting.

More You Drink More You Want