What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more.

Actually, I can write anywhere - airport lounges, in bed, on a rattling train going north.

I read a lot of thrillers, especially American crime novels.

The message is clear: libraries matter. Their solid presence at the heart of our towns sends the proud signal that everyone - whoever they are, whatever their educational background, whatever their age or their needs - is welcome.

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own.

There is no pattern the human mind can devise that does not exist already within the bounds of nature...Everything we do, see, write, notate, all are an echo of the deep seams of the universe. Music is the invisible world made visible through sound.

Too often I am jealous and my jealousy leads me to say things-things-that I regret.