Poor Grendel's Had An Accident.

When I Was A Child I Truly Loved: Unthinking Love As Calm And Deep As The North Sea. But I Have Lived, And Now I Do Not Sleep.

I Couldn't Go On, Too Conscious All At Once Of My Whispering, My Eternal Posturing, Always Transforming The World With Words--changing Nothing.

What Art Ought To Do Is Tell Stories Which Are Moment-by-moment Wonderful, Which Are True To Human Experience, And Which In No Way Explain Human Experience.

Fiction Does Not Spring Into The World Fully Grown, Like Athena. It Is The Process Of Writing And Rewriting That Makes A Fiction Original, If Not Profound.

So Childhood Too Feels Good At First, Before One Happens To Notice The Terrible Sameness, Age After Age.