There Is No God And That's His

No Artist Knows Everything... But Since Every Artist Knows More Than He Can Tell, All Art Is Lying By Omission.

There’s A Reason Humans Peg-out Around Eighty: Prose Fatigue. It Looks Like Organ Failure Or Cancer Or Stroke But It’s Really Just The Inability To Carry On Clambering Through The Assault Course Of Mundane Cause And Effect. If We Ask Sheila Then We Can’t Ask Ron. If I Have The Kippers Now Then It’s Quiche For Tea. Four Score Years Is About All The Ifs And Thens You Can Take. Dementia’s The Sane Realisation You Just Can’t Be Doing With All That Anymore.

I'm Too Conceited For Therapy.

Peace Is Purchased In The Currency Of Loss.

You Love Life Because Life's All There Is.