Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering Mine!Mine!

I was horrified in high school by the fate of the hanged maids at the end of the Odyssey; it seemed unfair to me, even then.

Like the trains, she's never on time and always departing.

I was warped early by Ray Bradbury and Edgar Allan Poe. I was very fond of Franz Kafka.

The heart of Jesus glowed, because it was holy. Holy things glowed in general.

If it's a story I'm telling, then I have control over the ending... But if it's a story, even in my head, I must be telling it to someone. You don't tell a story only to yourself. There's always someone else. Even when there is no one.

Then sail, my fine lady, on the billowing wave - The water below is as dark as the grave, And maybe you'll sink in your little blue boat - It's hope, and hope only, that keeps us afloat