You Let The Story Cool Off And

Life Is Like Underwear, Should Be Changed Twice A Day.

Here At This Far Lost End Of The Continent, Where The Trail Wagons Had Stopped And The People With Them.

We Need Not To Be Let Alone. We Need To Be Really Bothered Once In A While.

Our Civilization Is Flinging Itself To Pieces. Stand Back From The Centrifuge.

Not To Write, For Many Of Us, Is To Die. We Must Take Ares Each And Every Day, Perhaps Knowing That The Battle Cannot Be Entirely Won, But Fight We Must, If Only A Gentle Bout. The Smallest Effort To Win Means, At The End Of Each Day, A Sort Of Victory.