She Was A Beautiful Woman Dragging A

As An Artist, You Can Never Get What You Want. What You Do Never Approaches What You Want It To Be.

I Thought Clay Must Feel Happy In The Good Potter's Hand.

My Father Was An Engineer - He Wasn't Literary, Not A Writer Or A Journalist, But He Was One Of The World's Great Readers. Every Two Weeks, He'd Take Me To Our Local Branch Library And Pull Books Off The Shelf For Me, Stacking Them Up In My Arms - 'have You Read This? And This? And This?"

Dawn Tinted The Darkness Like Water Ink.

Wasn't That The Way It Always Was? You Didn't Know, You Couldn't Tell, You Just Let It Happen... Perhaps They Didn't Know Themselves. Sometimes The Line Was Very Fine.