The Present Hardly Exists, After All-it Becomes

I Am Addicted To Arrivals, To Those Innocent Dawn Moments From Which History Accelerates.

It Seems To Me That Anyone Whose Library Consists Of A Kindle Lying On A Table Is Some Sort Of Bloodless Nerd.

The Idea That Memory Is Linear Is Nonsense. What We Have In Our Heads Is A Collection Of Frames. As To Time Itself-can It Be Linear When All These Snatches Of Other Presents Exist At Once In Your Mind? A Very Elusive And Tricky Concept, Time.

There's A Fearful Term That's In Fashion At The Moment - Closure. People Apparently Believe It Is Desirable And Attainable.

The Days Of Our Lives Vanish Utterly, More Insubstantial Than If They Had Been Invented. Fiction Can Seem More Enduring Than Reality.