What I Try To Write About Are

Anyone Who Can Not Write Should.

There Is No Nobler Chore In The Craft Of Writing Than Holding Up The Mirror Of Reality And Turning It Slightly, So We Have A New And Different Perception Of The Commonplace, The Everyday, The 'normal,' The Obvious. People Are Reflected In The Glass. The Fantasy Situation Into Which You Thrust Them Is The Mirror Itself. And What We Are Shown Should Illuminate And Alter Our Perception Of The World Around Us. Failing That, You Have Failed Totally.

I Know That Pain Is The Most Important Thing In The Universes. Greater Than Survival, Greater Than Love, Greater Even Than The Beauty It Brings About. For Without Pain, There Can Be No Pleasure. Without Sadness, There Can Be No Happiness. Without Misery There Can Be No Beauty. And Without These, Life Is Endless, Hopeless, Doomed And Damned. Adult. You Have Become Adult.

Like A Wind Crying Endlessly Through The Universe, Time Carries Away The Names And The Deeds Of Conquerors And Commoners Alike. And All That We Were, All That Remains, Is In The Memories Of Those Who Cared We Came This Way For A Brief Moment.

And We Passed Through The Cavern Of Rats. And We Passed Through The Path Of Boiling Steam. And We Passed Through The Country Of The Blind. And We Passed Through The Slough Of Despond. And We Passed Through The Vale Of Tears. And We Came, Finally, To The Ice Caverns.