I Read Very, Very Little Fiction As

I Have Very Fond Memories Of Swimming In Walden Pond When We Lived In Boston. You'd Swim Past A Log And See All These Turtles Sunning Themselves. Slightly Disturbing If You Thought About How Many More Were Swimming Around Your Toes, But Also Rather Wonderful.

How Pleased We Are To Have Our Eyes Opened But How Easily We Close Them Again.

The Word "metaphor" Means Carrying Something From One Place To Another . . . And It Is When You Describe Something By Using A Word For Something That It Isn't. This Means That The Word "metaphor" Is A Metaphor. I Think It Should Be Called A Lie Because A Pig Is Not Like A Day And People People Do Not Have Skeletons In Their Cupboards. And When I Try And Make A Picture Of The Phrase In My Head It Just Confuses Me Because Imagining And Apple In Someone's Eye Doesn't Have Anything To Do With Liking Someone A Lot And It Makes You Forget What The Person Was Talking About.

I Think People Believe In Heaven Because They Don't Like The Idea Of Dying, Because They Want To Carry On Living And They Don't Like The Idea That Other People Will Move Into Their House And Put Their Things Into The Rubbish.

There's Something Rather Wonderful About The Fact That Oxford Is A Very Small City That Contains Most Of The Cultural And Metropolitan Facilities You Could Want, In Terms Of Bookshops, Theatre, Cinema, Conversation. But It's Near Enough To London To Get Here In An Hour, And It's Near Enough To Huge Open Spaces Without Which I Would Go Insane.