We All Write Poems; It Is Simply

Only Fools Think Our Attitude To Our Fellow Men Is A Thing Distinct From Our Attitude To 'lesser' Life On This Planet.

It's No Good. I've Been Trying To Sleep For The Last Half-hour, And I Can't. Writing Here Is A Sort Of Drug. It's The Only Thing I Look Forward To. This Afternoon I Read What I Wrote... And It Seemed Vivid. I Know It Seems Vivid Because My Imagination Fills In All The Bits Another Person Wouldn't Understand. I Mean, It's Vanity. But It Seems A Sort Of Magic... And I Just Can't Live In This Present. I Would Go Mad If I Did

His Statement To Himself Should Have Been, 'i Possess This Now, Therefore I Am Happy', Instead Of What It So Victorianly Was: "i Cannot Possess This For Ever, And Therefore Am Sad."

I Do Not Plan My Fiction Any More Than I Normally Plan Woodland Walks; I Follow The Path That Seems Most Promising At Any Given Point, Not Some Itinerary Decided Before Entry.

Forgetting’s Not Something You Do, It Happens To You. Only It Didn’t Happen To Me.