Pop ate my heart. He downed the whole thing in one efficient gulp like a beautiful monster then took off into the city.

Amidst all of these flashing lights, I pray The Fame won't take my life.

Confess to yourself in the deepest hour of the night whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. Dig deep into your heart, where the answer spreads its roots in your being, and ask yourself solemnly, Must I write?