On Their Way To Freedom, Some People

I Write A Lot In My Head. The Revision Goes On Internally. It's Not Spontaneous And It Doesn't Have A Schedule.

Most Of The Nations That Have Serious Gardening Cultures Have, Or Had, Empires. You Can't Have This Luxury Of Pleasure Without Somebody Paying For It. This Is Nice To Know. It's Nice To Know That When You Sit Down To Enjoy A Plate Of Strawberries, Somebody Got Paid Very Little So That You Could Have Your Strawberries. It Doesn't Mean The Strawberries Will Taste Different, But It's Nice To Enjoy Things Less Than We Do. We Enjoy Things Far Too Much, And It Leads To Incredible Pain And Suffering.

I Swim In A Shaft Of Light, Upside Down, And I Can See Myself Clearly, Through And Through, From Every Angle. Perhaps I Stand On The Brink Of A Great Discovery.

I've Never Let The Criticism Deter Me.

The Space Between The Idea Of Something And Its Reality Is Always Wide And Deep And Dark. The Longer They Are Kept Apart—idea Of Thing, Reality Of Thing—the Wider The Width, The Deeper The Depth, The Thicker And Darker The Darkness.