I Can Be Glib And

...aware, As Always, That The Truth Isn't Much Of Substitute For A Good Answer.

I Think That If People Are Instructed About Anything, It Should Be About The Nature Of Cruelty. And About Why People Behave So Cruelly To Each Other. And What Kind Of Satisfactions They Derive From It. And Why There Is Always A Cost, And A Price To Be Paid.

Where Was The Middle Ground Between A Sense Of Adventure And Just Plain Sense?

As I Drift Back Into Sleep, I Can't Help Thinking That It's A Wonderful Thing To Be Right About The World. To Weigh The Evidence, Always Incomplete, And Correctly Intuit The Whole, To See The World In A Grain Of Sand, To Recognize Its Beauty, Its Simplicity, Its Truth. It's As Close As We Get To God In This Life, And Reside In The Glow Of Such Brief Flashes Of Understanding, Fully Awake, Sometimes For Two Or Three Seconds, At Peace With Our Existence. And Then Back To Sleep We Go.

When Authors Who Write Literary Fiction Begin To Write Screenplays, Everybody Assumes That's The End. Here's Another Who's Never Going To Write Well Again.