I Don't Need To Publish To Make

It Frightened People When You Were Honest; It Shocked Them.

The First Story I Finished Was When I Was Six Years Old.

They May Not Look Dangerous, But If Angered [bowtruckles] Will Gouge Out Human Eyes With Their Fingers, Which, As You Can See, Are Very Sharp And Not At All Desirable Near The Eyeballs.

Your Qualifications, Your Cv, Are Not Your Life, Though You Will Meet Many People Of My Age And Older Who Confuse The Two. Life Is Difficult, And Complicated, And Beyond Anyone's Control, And The Humility To Know That Will Enable You To Survive Its Vicissitudes.

Many Prefer Not To Exercise Their Imaginations At All. They Choose To Remain Comfortably Within The Bounds Of Their Own Experience, Never Troubling To Wonder How It Would Feel To Have Been Born Other Than They Are. They Can Refuse To Hear Screams Or To Peer Inside Cages; They Can Close Their Minds And Hearts To Any Suffering That Does Not Touch Them Personally; They Can Refuse To Know. I Might Be Tempted To Envy People Who Can Live That Way, Except That I Do Not Think They Have Any Fewer Nightmares Than I Do. The Wilfully Unimaginative See More Monsters. They Are Often More Afraid.