Write About Winter In The Summer.

The Surest Sign Of Age Is Loneliness.

Cruelty Is A Mystery, And A Waste Of Pain.

At Night I Read And Write, And Things I Have Never Understood Become Clear; I Reap The Harvest Of The Rest Of The Year's Planting

A Schedule Is A Mock-up Of Reason And Order - Willed, Faked, And So Brought Into Being.

Why Do You Never Find Anything Written About That Idiosyncratic Thought You Advert To, About Your Fascination With Something No One Else Understands? Because It Is Up To You. There Is Something You Find Interesting, For A Reason Hard To Explain. It Is Hard To Explain Because You Have Never Read It On Any Page; There You Begin. You Were Made And Set Here To Give Voice To This, Your Own Astonishment.