Love Is A Greater Mystery Than Death.

All My Friends Who Wanted To Write Had Got Nowhere Trying To Write The Great European Novel. So I Deliberately Steered Clear Of That And Set Out To Write Something Story-led.

In Most Sports, Your Brain And Your Body Will Cooperate... But In Rock Climbing, It Is The Other Way Around. Your Brain Doesn't See The Point In Climbing Upwards. Your Brain Will Tell You To Keep As Low As Possible, To Cling To The Wall And Not Get Any Higher. You Have To Have Your Brain Persuading Your Body To Do The Right Movements.

But Perhaps That's Why We Take Snaps...to Provide False Evidence To Underpin The False Claim That We Were Happy. Because The Thought That We Weren't Happy At Least For Some Time During Our Lives Is Unbearable. Adults Order Children To Smile In The Photos, Involve Them In The Lie, So We Smile, We Feign Happiness.

I Have Problems With A Religion Which Says That Faith In Itself Is Enough For A Ticket To Heaven. In Other Words, That The Ideal Is Your Ability To Manipulate Your Own Common Sense To Accept Something Your Intellect Rejects. It's The Same Model Of Intellectual Submission That Dictatorships Have Used Throughout Time, The Concept Of A Higher Reasoning Without Any Obligation To Discharge The Burden Of Proof.

I Tell Myself I Write Because I Want To Say Something True And Original About The Nature Of Evil. That Is Very Ambitious - To Say Something About The Human Condition That Hasn't Been Written Before. Probably I Will Never Succeed But That Is What I Strive To Do.