Sometimes I Write What I Can't Paint,

It Is Likely To Make Us Think We Are Not Caged. We Cannot Feel The Bars Unless We Push Against Them.

It Is Perhaps Both A Blessing And A Curse That Fictional Worlds Spring Into My Mind Nearly Fully Formed And It Takes Quite A While To Sift Through Everything To Find The Story.

Wine Is Bottled Poetry, He Thinks.

The Sensation Reminds Him Of The First Snow Of Winter, For Those First Few Hours When Everything Is Blanketed In White, Soft And Quiet.

I Think I Get Some Of My Love Of Adult Books That Can Be Fun From Douglas Adams.