It's Lovely. I Hate It.

In The Greater Part Of Humankind There Resides An Instinct For Survival. It Is This Which Can Clutch At Straws And Effect A Rescue From Them. It Is This Which Can, Now And Then, Outwit Fate.

Genre Categories Are Irrelevant. I Dislike Them, But I Do Not Have The Casting Vote.

If I Ever Get To 100, I'd Want To Be Filled With Wonder And Wild, Adolescent, Wide-eyed Interest In Newness. So Let's Keep The Flame Burning. Let's Stop Thinking Everyone Over 29, Or 49, Has To Be Reinforced By Concrete.

We Need The Expressive Arts, The Ancient Scribes, The Storytellers, The Priests.

What Is Any Of This To Us? Time Is Endless And Ours. Love And Death Are Only The Games We Play In It.