Hell ain't half full.

In history there are no control groups. There is no one to tell us what might have been. We weep over the might have been, but there is no might have been. There never was.

All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rage.

Suttree stood among the screaming leaves and called the lightning down. It cracked and boomed about and he pointed out the darkened heart within him and cried for light. If there be any art in the weathers of this earth. Or char these bones to coal. If you can, if you can. A blackened rag in the rain.

If you dont respect me what must you think of yourself?

Query: How does the never to be differ from what never was?

Any time you're throwin dirt you're losin ground.