What Kind Of World Is

Life Is Like That, Full Of Words That Are Not Worth Saying Or That Were Worth Saying Once But Not Any More, Each Word That We Utter Will Take Up The Space Of Another More Deserving Word, Not Deserving In Its Own Right, But Because Of The Possible Consequences Of Saying It.

You Know The Name You Were Given, You Do Not Know The Name That You Have

The Beginning Is Never The Clear, Precise End Of A Thread, The Beginning Is A Long, Painfully Slow Process That Requires Time And Patience In Order To Find Out In Which Direction It Is Heading, A Process That Feels Its Way Along The Path Ahead Like A Blind Man The Beginning Is Just The Beginning, What Came Before Is Nigh On Worthless.

In Effect I Am Not A Novelist, But Rather A Failed Essayist Who Started To Write Novels Because He Didn't Know How To Write Essays.

The History Of Mankind Is The History Of Our Misunderstandings With God, For He Doesn't Understand Us, And We Don't Understand Him.