The Fear Of Death Is For All

Fear Tastes Like A Rusty Knife And Do Not Let Her Into Your House. Courage Tastes Of Blood. Stand Up Straight. Admire The World. Relish The Love Of A Gentle Woman.

Fiction Is Art And Art Is The Triumph Over Chaos (no Less) And We Can Accomplish This Only By The Most Vigilant Exercise Of Choice, But In A World That Changes More Swiftly That We Can Perceive There Is Always The Danger That Our Powers Of Selection Will Be Mistaken And That The Vision We Serve Will Come To Nothing.

Falsehood Is A Critical Element In Fiction. Part Of The Thrill Of Being Told A Story Is The Chance Of Being Hoodwinked. . .the Telling Of Lies Is A Sort Of Sleight Of Hand That Displays Our Deepest Feelings About Life.

Then It Is Dark; It Is A Night Where Kings In Golden Suits Ride Elephants Over The Mountains.

All Things Of The Sea Belong To Venus; Pearls And Shells And Alchemists' Gold And Kelp And The Riggish Smell Of Neap Tides, The Inshore Green, And Purple Further Out And The Joy Of Distances And The Roar Of Falling Masonry, All These Are Hers, But She Doesn't Come Out Of The Sea For All Of Us.