Looking at a cat, like looking at clouds or stars or the ocean, makes it difficult to believe there is nothing miraculous in this world.
There is always something for which there is no accounting. Take, for example, the whole world.
Of mystery there is no end. Of clarity, there is precious little.
I read assiduously. I kept in touch with my species.
Stories should be natural as apples, brief as lust, long as a thought.
Self-confidence can be crippling.