...and There Was Nothing To Do Except

What Actually Happens When You Die Is That Your Brain Stops Working And Your Body Rots, Like Rabbit Did When He Died And We Buried Him In The Earth At The Bottom Of The Garden. And All His Molecules Were Broken Down Into Other Molecules And They Went Into The Earth And Were Eaten By Worms And Went Into The Plants And If We Go And Dig In The Same Place In 10 Years There Will Be Nothing Exept His Skeleton Left. And In 1,000 Years Even His Skeleton Will Be Gone. But That Is All Right Because He Is A Part Of The Flowers And The Apple Tree And The Hawthorn Bush Now.

It Exasperated Her Sometimes. The Way Men Could Be So Sure Of Themselves. They Put Words Together Like Sheds Or Shelves And You Could Stand On Them They Were So Solid. And Those Feelings Which Overwhelmed You In The Small Hours Turned To Smoke.

I've Written 16 Children's Books And Five Unpublished Novels. Some Of The Latter Were Breathtakingly Bad.

If You Enjoy Math And You Write Novels, It's Very Rare That You'll Get A Chance To Put Your Math Into A Novel. I Leapt At The Chance.

And I Go Out Of Father's House And I Walk Down The Street, And It Is Very Quiet Even Thought It Is The Middle Of The Day And I Can't Hear Any Noise Except Birds Singing And Wind And Sometimes Buildings Falling Down In The Distance, And If I Stand Very Close To Traffic Lights I Can Hear A Little Click As The Colors Change.