There's Room For All Sorts

I Could Believe Only In The Hell I Was Living In, A Hell On Earth, And It Was Man-made, Not God-made.

Admitting Failure Is Quite Cleansing, But Never - Pleasurable.

There's A Mouse In Here With Me. He's Sitting There In The Light Of The Lamp, Looking Up At Me. He Seems As Surprised To See Me As I Am To See Him. There He Goes. I Can Hear Him Still, Scurrying About Somewhere Under The Hayrick. I Think He's Gone Now. I Hope He Comes Back. I Miss Him Already.

I Tell You, My Friends,’ He Said One Day. ‘i Tell You That I Am The Only Sane Man In The Regiment. It’s The Others That Are Mad, But They Don’t Know It. They Fight A War And They Don’t Know What For. Isn’t That Crazy? How Can One Man Kill Another And Not Really Know The Reason Why He Does It, Except That The Other Man Wears A Different Colour Uniform And Speaks A Different Language? And It’s Me They Call Mad!

Remember To Write For Yourself, Not For A Market And Give Yourself Time To Develop Your Own Style, Your Own Voice. It Takes A Lifetime. Enjoy It!