I am no more lonely than the loon on the pond that laughs so loud.

Skill in writing frees you to write what you want to write. It may also show you what you want to write. Craft enables art.

The borderline between prose and poetry is one of those fog-shrouded literary minefields where the wary explorer gets blown to bits before ever seeing anything clearly. It is full of barbed wire and the stumps of dead opinions.

My world, my Earth is a ruin. A planet spoiled by the human species. We multiplied and fought and gobbled until there was nothing left, and then we died. We controlled neither appetite nor violence; we did not adapt. We destroyed ourselves. But we destroyed the world first.

Gradually the healing took place, seeming as it always does that it wasn't taking place.

As great scientists have said and as all children know, it is above all by the imagination that we achieve perception, and compassion, and hope.

People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.