Death Is A Dramatic Accomplishment

I Don't Wish To Inhabit The Human World Under False Pretences.

Writing A Novel Is Not Merely Going On A Shopping Expedition Across The Border To An Unreal Land: It Is Hours And Years Spent In The Factories, The Streets, The Cathedrals Of The Imagination.

For In Spite Of The Snapdragons And The Duty Millers And The Cherry Blossoms, It Was Always Winter.

They Think I'm Going To Be A Schoolteacher But I'm Going To Be A Poet.

Time Past Is Not Time Gone, It Is Time Accumulated With The Host Resembling The Character In The Fairytale Who Was Joined Along The Route By More And More Characters None Of Whom Could Be Separated From One Another Or From The Host, With Some Stuck So Fast That Their Presence Caused Physical Pain.