Simplicity Is The Whole Secret Of Well-being.

I Used To Distinguish Between My Fiction And Nonfiction In Terms Of Superiority Or Inferiority.

When We Are Mired In The Relative World, Never Lifting Our Gaze To The Mystery, Our Life Is Stunted, Incomplete; We Are Filled With Yearning For That Paradise That Is Lost When, As Young Children, We Replace It With Words And Ideas And Abstractions - Such As Merit, Such As Past, Present, And Future - Our Direct, Spontaneous Experience Of The Thing Itself, In The Beauty And Precision Of This Present Moment.

You See ... A Man Like Me, A Cautious Man, Has His Life All Figured Out According To A Pattern, And Then The Pattern Flies Apart. You Run Around For Quite A While Trying To Repair It, Until One Day You Straighten Up Again With An Armful Of Broken Pieces, And You See That The World Has Gone On Without You And You Can Never Catch Up With Your Old Life, And You Must Begin All Over Again.

For Some Time I Watch The Coming Of The Night? Above Is The Glistening Galaxy Of Childhood, Now Hidden In The Western World By Air Pollution And The Glare Of Artificial Light; For My Children's Children, The Power, Peace And Healing Of The Night Will Be Obliterated.

This World Is Painted On A Wild Dark Metal