The Truth Can Be Very Sharp. But

I Was Born In London, England, In 1938, A Few Months Before The War, And Spent The First Years Of My Life There, Although I Was Evacuated A Couple Of Times For Short Periods. My Schooling Was Very Interrupted, Both By Frequent Moves And By Ill Health.

Some Kinds Of Beauty Did Not Heal, But Hollowed The Pain Even Deeper.

People Only Tell Lies When The Truth Is Disagreeable To Them, Or Frightens Them, Or To Cover Sin.

You Start At The End, And Then Go Back And Write And Go That Way. Not Everyone Does, But I Do. Some People Just Sit Down At The Page And Start Off. I Start From What Happened, Including The Why.

The Truth Can Be Very Sharp. But It Makes A Cleaner Wound Than Lies. It Will Not Fester