Well, We're Meant To Be Writing Stories

I Rolled Back Onto The Lawn And Pressed My Forehead To The Ground Again And Made The Noise That Father Calls Groaning. I Make This Noise When There Is Too Much Information Coming Into My Head From The Outside World. It Is Like When You Are Upset And You Hold The Radio Against Your Ear And You Tune It Halfway Between Two Stations So That All You Get Is White Noise And Then You Turn The Volume Right Up So That This Is All Can Hear And Then You Know You Are Safe Because You Cannot Hear Anything Else

Madness Doesn't Happen To Someone Alone. Very Few People Have Experiences That Are Theirs Alone.

From A Good Book, I Want To Be Taken To The Very Edge. I Want A Glimpse Into That Outer Darkness.

All The Other Children At My School Are Stupid. Except I'm Not Meant To Call Them Stupid, Even Though This Is What They Are.

Bore Children, And They Stop Reading. There's No Room For Self-indulgence Or Showing Off Or Setting The Scene.