For I am a peddler of words lost in space and time filling in gaps of insignificance to outright the inconceivable.
When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen. But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any way you can. ~Samuel Lover, Handy Andy, 1842
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Shifting Gears
Because things are different now...
This is to remind me that the beauty of words lies on a writer's passion to express.
It will never age. Even after my last cigarette puff.
My quill's back.
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