But I Suspect That All Writers Come

We Can't Be As Good As We'd Want To, So The Question Then Becomes, How Do We Cope With Our Own Badness?

Linda Seemed To Recognize Loneliness. Possibly She Could See It Sitting Opposite Her, Sipping Lager And Trying Not To Lose Its Temper. It Was An Illness, Loneliness-it Made You Weak, Gullible, Feebleminded.

I Burst Into Tears And I Cry And Cry Until It Feels As Though It Is Not Salt And Water Being Squeezed From My Eyes, But Blood.

What Went Wrong? Nothing And Everything.

There's No Doubt That He's The Biggest Sports Star In The World Now. (on David Beckham)