All You Ever Were Was

It Gripped Her Hand Gently. 'regret Is For Humans,' It Said. She Laughed. 'really?' The Machine Shrugged And Let Go Of Her Hand. 'oh, No. It's Just Something We Tell Ourselves.

All Our Lives Are Symbols. Everything We Do Is Part Of A Pattern We Have At Least Some Say In. The Strong Make Their Own Patterns And Influence Other People's, The Weak Have Their Courses Mapped Out For Them. The Weak And The Unlucky, And The Stupid.

The Trouble With Writing Fiction Is That It Has To Make Sense, Whereas Real Life Doesn't.

In So Much Of Politics You're Not Allowed To Disagree With What's Been Agreed.

...and I Confess That, Like A Child, I Cry. Ah, Self-pity; I Think We Are At Our Most Honest And Sincere When We Feel Sorry For Ourselves.