I Am A Coffee Fanatic. Once You

I Would Cling To Unhappiness Because It Was A Known, Familiar State. When I Was Happier, It Was Because I Knew I Was On My Way Back To Misery. I've Never Been Convinced That Happiness Is The Object Of The Game. I'm Wary Of Happiness.

I Just Read An 800-page History Of The Scottish Enlightenment And, Honestly, I May As Well Just Start It Again Now, Because I Cannot Remember A Single Thing. I Can Barely Remember Where Scotland Is.

In Books, Day Breaks, And Night Falls. In Life, Night Rises From The Ground. The Day Hangs On For As Long As It Can, Bright And Eager, Absolutely And Positively The Last Guest To Leave The Party, While The Ground Darkens, Oozing Night Around Your Ankles, Swallowing For Ever That Dropped Contact Lens, Making You Miss That Low Catch In The Gully On The Last Ball Of The Last Over.

Girls Are Complicated. The Instruction Manual That Comes With Girls Is 800 Pages, With Chapters 14, 19, 26 And 32 Missing, And It's Badly Translated, Hard To Figure Out.

Just Because It's A Bad Job Doesn't Mean I Need To Do It Badly.