In This World, Artists Are Joyous. Unpredictability

My Second Novel, "good Benito", Was Not Finished. I Wished That I Had Spent Another Year With It.

The Tragedy Of This World Is That No One Is Happy, Whether Stuck In Atime Of Pain Or Of Joy. The Tragedy Of This World Is That Everyone Is Alone. For A Life In The Past Cannot Be Shared With The Present. Each Person Who Gets Stuck In Time Gets Stuck Alone.

It's Not Necessarily A Large Number Of People That Affect The Culture. You Don't Count The Number Of Influential Voices, You Weigh Them. A Hundred People Can Affect The Culture.

A World In Which Time Is Absolute Is A World Of Consolation. For While The Movements Of People Are Unpredictable, The Movement Of Time Is Predictable. While People Can Be Doubted, Time Cannot Be Doubted. While People Brood, Time Skips Ahead Without Looking Back.

"the Diagnosis" Had Ten Drafts Of Very Significant Changing, Where I Went Through The Whole Book, Wholesale And Changed Everything. Then The Last Year Or So It Was Making Small Changes. I Would Do Something And Let It Sit For Three Months... Just Brood About And Decide I Needed To Slightly Change Something Here Or There. Or One Character Wasn't Quite Right. But I Think Everybody Goes Through This.