What Is Any Of This To Us?

When I Started As A Writer, I Knew Nothing About Publishing-nothing About Anything!

How Massively The Mountains Stand, While Low To The Ground The Sand Blows. The Sand Blows On And On. And Then There Are No Mountains, None At All, The Sand Has Kissed And Whispered Them Away. And Still, The Sand Blows On.

We Need The Expressive Arts, The Ancient Scribes, The Storytellers, The Priests.

I've Been Criticised For Writing In Too Complex A Manner For Younger People.

The Humble Were The Elect Of God. Did Not The Priests Teach So, In Their Gemmed, Kingly Robes, From Their Towering Pulpits?