Death: The Anaesthetic From Which

It's Easy To Write When You've Nothing To Write About (that Is, When You Are Young).

Any Memory For The Most Part Depending On Chance.

How Little Our Careers Express What Lies In Us, And Yet How Much Time They Take Up. It's Sad, Really.

Things Are Tougher Than We Are, Just As Earth Will Always Respond However We Mess It About.

I Think That At The Bottom Of All Art Lies The Impulse To Preserve.