Continents Of Memory Had Been Lost.

Another Strand Of My Writing Is The Importance Of The Idea. If You Think About Fiction Writing As A Spectrum, Where At One End Of The Spectrum In The Infrared, Are The Story Tellers, And The People For Whom Creation Of Wonderful Characters And Telling A Good Story Is The Most Important Thing.

While People Brood, Time Skips Ahead Without Looking Back.

No One Knows The Nature Of God, Or Even If God Exists. In A Sense, All Of Our Religions Are Literary Works Of The Imagination.

Is It Possible For A Person To Love Without Wanting Love Back? Is Anything So Pure? Or Is Love, By Its Nature, A Reciprocity, Like Oceans And Clouds, An Evaporating Of Seawater And A Replenishing By Rain?

The World Is Moving Faster And Faster, But Where Are We Going?