...and There Was Nothing To Do Except

With English Literature, If You Do A Bit Of Shonky Spelling, No One Dies, But If You're Half-way Through A Maths Calculation And You Stick In An Extra Zero, Everything Just Crashes Into The Ravine.

Most Of My Work Consisted Of Crossing Out. Crossing Out Was The Secret Of All Good Writing.

And This Shows That People Want To Be Stupid And They Do Not Want To Know The Truth. And It Shows That Something Called Occam's Razor Is True. And Occam's Razor Is Not A Razor That Men Shave With But A Law, And It Says: Entia Non Sunt Multiplicanda Praeter Necessitatem. Which Is Latin And It Means: No More Things Should Be Presumed To Exist Than Are Absolutely Necessary. Which Means That A Murder Victim Is Usually Killed By Someone Known To Them And Fairies Are Made Out Of Paper And You Can't Talk To Someone Who Is Dead.

On The Fifth Day, Which Was A Sunday, It Rained Very Hard. I Like It When It Rains Hard. It Sounds Like White Noise Everywhere, Which Is Like Silence But Not Empty.

Find The Extraordinary Inside The Ordinary.