...and It Strikes Her, As She Walks,

Let It Be. Silly Song, Really. You Let It Be, It Returns. There's The Truth. You Let It Be, It Drags You To The Ground. You Let It Be, It Crawls Up Your Walls.

There Is Always Room For At Least Two Truths.

The Job Of The Writer Is To Look At Where He Is Now And Make Some Sort Of Emotional Sense Of It, Not Only For That Moment But For Years To Come.

I’m Not Interested In Blind Optimism, But I’m Very Interested In Optimism That Is Hard-won, That Takes On Darkness And Then Says, ‘this Is Not Enough.’ But It Takes Time, More Time Than We Can Sometimes Imagine, To Get There. And Sometimes We Don’t.

We Shape Ourselves By Our Imaginative Reach.