There is something about the sight of a passing motorcyclist that tempts many automobile drivers to commit murder.

Ah, that we lack the courage of our romantic convictions; and thereby miss the wine of life, forgoing the very thing that makes living worthwhile.

Every reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective. So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a different angle everyday? How could we ever hope to accomplish anything anther than galloping neurosis?

On my tombstone they will carve, "IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME.

They say life is a highway and we all travel our own roads, some good, some bad, yet each is a blessing of its own.

This long ride is the blood my heart bleeds...