... Ben wished, as he wished when he was a child, that he could be out there in the fields running free and far away from the dark little room in his mind.

“He was a pen, and the ink just flowed through him.”

“He didn't know why he was poking holes anyway. It was just that, with what he'd…”

“... I know for a fact that the creative mind is only truly happy when it's tort…”

“Where do you get your stories?" the interviewer asked. It was a typical questio…”