The one Bach piece I learnt made me feel I was being repeatedly hit on the head with a teaspoon.

I have really sinned. I am going to pause now, and sit here on the mound repenting in deepest shame.

The key to all knowledge comes in words of just one syllable, apparently.... There's only the last page left to write on. I'll fill it with words of just one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

Perhaps it would really be rather dull to be married and settled for life. Liar! It would be heaven.

Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?

Death is too much to ask of the living.

It is rather exciting to write by moonlight.