Most Of Humanity Gets By Without Reading

I Turned The Pages So Fast. And I Suppose I Was, In My Mindless Way, Looking For A Something, Version Of Myself, A Heroine I Could Slip Inside As One Might A Pair Of Favourite Shoes.

He Never Believed In Fate Or Providence, Or The Future Being Made By Someone In The Sky. Instead, At Every Instant, A Trillion Trillion Possible Futures; The Pickiness Of Pure Chance And Physical Laws Seemed Like Freedom From The Scheming Of A Gloomy God.

In My Experience An Appreciative Letter From A Fellow Writer Means A Lot.

No Emergency Was Ever Dealt With Effectively By Democratic Process.

There's A Taste In The Air, Sweet And Vaguely Antiseptic, That Reminds Him Of His Teenage Years In These Streets, And Of A General State Of Longing, A Hunger For Life To Begin That From This Distance Seems Like Happiness.