No One Knows Anything, Really. It's All

Is There Any Meaning In My Life That The Inevitable Death Awaiting Me Does Not Destory?

No One Knew About The Squirrel’s Skull Beneath Briony Bed, But No One Wanted To Know.

I Want To Live In A Place Where Strangers Rush To Help Someone In Distress.

Oh, I've Become Immune To The Booker. I Think We Need Something A Little More Like The Pulitzer Prize, Where There Isn't This Great Race.

Novels Help Us To Resist The Temptation To Think Of The Past As Deficient.