It Is Sad That Unless You Are

I Wrote Home To Say How Lovely Everything Was, And I Used Flourishing Words And Phrases, As If I Were Living Life In A Greeting Card - The Kind That Has A Satin Ribbon On It, And Quilted Hearts And Roses, And Is Expected To Be So Precious To The Person Receiving It That The Manufacturer Has Placed A Leaf Of Plastic On The Front To Protect It.

When I Write A Book, I Hope To Be Beyond Mortal By The Time I'm Finished.

It Was Hollow, My Triumph, I Could Feel That, But I Held On To It Just The Same.

...yet A Memory Cannot Be Trusted, For So Much Of The Experience Of The Past Is Determined By The Experience Of The Present.

I'll Read Anything. In Fact, I'll Read While I'm Doing Other Things, Which Is Not A Good Idea.