Words are the light and sound of our existence, the heat lightning by which the night is illuminated.

It is a mystery, and to tell the truth, I am intrigued by mysteries even if this is to be my last week of enjoying them. I would welcome some glimmer of understanding but, failing that, working on the puzzle will suffice.

We are all eaters of souls.

I knew that I wanted to be a writer even before I knew exactly what being a writer entailed

The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.

The Victorians, they were like the Germans in World War II. They could not stop recording details about their lives and their age.

If everyone could understand the working of a psychopath's mind, we undoubtedly would be closer to insanity ourselves.