A Star Appeared...and Was Momentarily Eclipsed By

This Is Our Island. It's A Good Island. Until The Grownups Come To Fetch Us We'll Have Fun.

Sleep Is When All The Unsorted Stuff Comes Flying Out As From A Dustbin Upset In A High Wind.

I Have A Confession To Make. The Love Affair Of My Life Has Been With The Greek Language. I Have Now Reached The Age When It Has Occurred To Me That I May Have Read Some Books For The Last Time. I Suddenly Thought That There Are Books I Cannot Bear Not To Read Again Before I Die. One That Stands Out A Mile Is Homer's Iliad.

When You Take A Child Who's Hollering Like Hell, Sit Him On Your Knee, And Say "once Upon A Time", You Stop Him Hollering. As Long As You Go On Telling Him A Story, He Will Listen. Novelists Who Neglect This Fundamental Effect Do So At Their Peril. They Become What Is Known As The Experimental Novelist, And An Experimental Novel Is Not Really A Novel At All.

It May Be -- I Hope It Is -- Redemption To Guess And Perhaps Perceive That The Universe, The Hell Which We See For All Its Beauty, Vastness, Majesty, Is Only Part Of A Whole Which Is Quite Unimaginable.