I Have An Editor In My Head,

There's A Story... A Legend, About A Bird That Sings Just Once In Its Life. From The Moment It Leaves Its Nest, It Searches For A Thorn Tree... And Never Rests Until It's Found One. And Then It Sings... More Sweetly Than Any Other Creature On The Face Of The Earth. And Singing, It Impales Itself On The Longest, Sharpest Thorn. But, As It Dies, It Rises Above Its Own Agony, To Outsing The Lark And The Nightingale. The Thorn Bird Pays Its Life For Just One Song, But The Whole World Stills To Listen, And God In His Heaven Smiles.

... The Most Insoluble Problems Are Those Which By Their Very Nature Can Have No Space Within Them For Dreams.

Oh, That Feels Good! I Don't Know Who Invented Ties And Then Insisted A Man Was Only Properly Dressed When He Wore One, But If I Ever Meet Him, I'll Strangle Him With His Own Invention

In The Touch, The Love Scenes Are The Same As They Were In The Thorn Birds Or Anything Else Ive Ever Written. I Find A Way Of Saying That Either It Was Heaven Or Hell But In A Way That Still Leaves Room For The Reader To Use Their Own Imagination.

It's No Fun To Be A Bluestocking In A Family Of Jockstraps.