I Held My Crotch, Closed My Eyes

I Still Have Some Of My Old University Essays, And I Do Still Have My Drawing Book From Primary Year Seven.

But It Was Pointless, It Was Stupid; He Thought About Thoughtless Things. If I Were A Seabird . . . But How Could You Be A Seabird? If You Were A Seabird Your Brain Would Be Tiny And Stupid And You Would Love Half-rotted Fish Guts And Tweaking The Eyes Out Of Little Grazing Animals; You Would Know No Poetry And You Could Never Appreciate Flying As Fully As The Human On The Ground Yearning To Be You. If You Wanted To Be A Seabird You Deserved To Be One.

Reason Shapes The Future, But Superstition Infects The Present.

Experience As Well As Common Sense Indicated That The Most Reliable Method Of Avoiding Self-extinction Was Not To Equip Oneself With The Means To Accomplish It In The First Place.

The Trouble With Writing Fiction Is That It Has To Make Sense, Whereas Real Life Doesn't.