Autumn Carries More Gold In

The Reporter Is The Daily Prisoner Of Clocked Facts. On All Working Days, He Is Expected To Do His Best In One Swift Swipe At Each Story.

Nobody Understands Anyone 18, Including Those Who Are 18.

It Is Impossible To Read For Pleasure From Something To Which You Are Both Father And Mother, Born In Such Travail That The Writer Despises The Thing That Enslaved Him.

Books, I Found, Had The Power To Make Time Stand Still, Retreat Or Fly Into The Future.

Scoops Of Mint Ice Cream With Chips Of Chocolate Cows.