One Of The Troubles Is This: The

I Dreamt That I Woke Up. It's The Oldest Dream Of All, And I've Just Had It

How Rarely Do Our Emotions Meet The Object They Seem To Deserve? How Hopelessly We Signal; How Dark The Sky; How Big The Waves. We Are All Lost At Sea, Washed Between Hope And Despair, Hailing Something That May Never Come To Rescue Us.

A Pier Is A Disappointed Bridge; Yet Stare At It For Long Enough And You Can Dream It To The Other Side Of The Channel.

The Rainbow In Place Of The Unicorn? Why Didn't God Just Restore The Unicorn? We Animals Would Have Been Happier With That, Instead Of A Big Hint In The Sky About God's Magnanimity Every Time It Stopped Raining.

In Britain I'm Sometimes Regarded As A Suspiciously Europeanized Writer, Who Has This Rather Dubious French Influence.