You really have to swim down into yourself when you’re writing, which is why people confuse it all with mental illness.
I’ve learned to live among the blooming trees, Sunday church traffic, and love of bacon.
If you’re stocking the shelves of your survival shelter, don’t forget to throw in a few gripping novels.
When my youngest son died by his own hand, my life shattered, and my faith crumbled.
Lines don’t come cheap or easy. It just sounds as if they do.
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