Both My Parents Loved Words. That Was

I'm A Praying Atheist. When I Hear An Ambulance Siren, I Ask For A Blessing For Those People In Trouble, Knowing That No One's Listening. I Think It's Just A Habit Of Mindfulness.

I Do Believe That Our Modern English Usage Has Become Way Too Clipped And Austere. I Have Been Reading Excerpts From The Journals Of 18th-century Seafarers Lately, And Even The Lowliest Press-ganged Deck-swabber Turns A Finer Phrase Than I Do Most Days.

The Thing That Most Attracts Me To Historical Fiction Is Taking The Factual Record As Far As It Is Known, Using That As Scaffolding, And Then Letting Imagination Build The Structure That Fills In Those Things We Can Never Find Out For Sure.

Yes, It Seems We've Got This Mutant Gene In Our Human Personality That Makes Us Susceptible To This Same Kind Of Mistake Over And Over Again. It's Really Uncanny How We Build These Beautiful Multicultural Edifices And Then Allow This Switch To Be Flipped And Everybody Goes, 'oh, The Other, Get Them Out Of Here.

It Is Natural To Want To Forget, Anna, When Everyday Is A Brimful Of Sadness. But Those Souls Also Forgot Those That They Had Loved. You Do Not Want That, Surely? I Have Heard Some Preach That God Wants Us To Forget The Dead, But I Cannot Believe So. I Think He Gives Us Precious Recollections So That We May Not Be Parted Entirely From Those He Has Given Us To Love. You Must Cherish Your Memories Of Your Babes, Anna, Until You See Them Again In Heaven.