For You Where Never My Blood Sister

I Hope That Readers Will Tear Through My Books Because They Can't Stop Themselves - And Then, Maybe, Read Them Again And Find New Things There.

I Wish I Was Away In Ingo Far Across The Briny Sea Sailing Over Deepest Waters Where Neither Care Nore Worry Trouble Me

As Individuals, We Are Shaped By Story From The Time Of Birth; We Are Formed By What We Are Told By Our Parents, Our Teachers, Our Intimates.

I Would Like People To Come Into My Dreamworld And Then Choose To Stay.

If The Garden Of Eden Really Exists It Does So Moment By Moment, Fragmented And Tough, Cropping Up Like A Fan Of Buddleia High Up In The Gutter Of A Deserted Warehouse, Or In A Heap Of Frozen Cabbages Becoming Luminous In The Reflected Light Of Roadside Snow.