Remembering Bred Its Own Peculiar Sorrow. It

Flirting With Madness Was One Thing; When Madness Started Flirting Back, It Was Time To Call The Whole Thing Off.

In Foreign Countries They Fear Baldness. They Are So Rich In Foreign Countries, They Can Afford To Fear All Kinds Of Silly Things.

…god Is A Giant Quiltmaker. With An Infinite Variety Of Designs. And The Quilt Is Grown So Big And Confusing, The Pattern Is Impossible To See, The Squares And Diamonds And Triangles Don’t Fit Well Together Anymore, It’s All Become Meaningless. So He Has Abandoned It.

So We Tell The Same Story, Over And Over. Just The Details Are Different

In The Broad Sense, As A Processing Of Everything One Hears Or Witnesses, All Fiction Is Autobiographical - Imagination Ground Through The Mill Of Memory. It's Impossible To Separate The Two Ingredients.