I Will Not Say I Am Sorry,

One Man Sees A Riselka: His Life Forks There. Two Men See A Riselka: One Of Them Shall Die. Three Men See A Riselka: One Is Blessed, One Forks, One Shall Die.

There Was Some Sadness In How That Could Happen, Falling Out Of Love With Something That Had Shaped You. Or Even People Who Had.

In This World, Where We Find Ourselves, We Need Compassion More Than Anything, I Think, Or We Are All Alone.

My Youngest Brother Had A Wonderful Schtick From Some Time In High School, Through To Graduating Medicine. He Had A Card In His Wallet That Read, ‘if I Am Found With Amnesia, Please Give Me The Following Books To Read …’ And It Listed Half A Dozen Books Where He Longed To Recapture That First Glorious Sense Of Needing To Find Out ‘what Happens Next’ … The Feeling That Keeps You Up Half The Night. The Feeling That Comes Before The Plot’s Been Learned.

Some Writers Later, Describing The Events Of That Night And Day, Wrote That Wan'yen Of The Altai Had Seen A Spirit-dragon Of The River And Become Afraid. Writers Do That Sort Of Thing. They Like Dragons In Their Tales.