The Worst Vice Of The Solitary Is

When I Write After Dark The Shades Of Evening Scatter Their Purple Through My Prose.

Obesity Is A Mental State, A Disease Brought On By Boredom And Disappointment.

Idleness Is Only A Coarse Name For My Infinite Capacity For Living In The Present.

Those Of Us Who Were Brought Up As Christians And Have Lost Our Faith Have Retained The Sense Of Sin Without The Saving Belief In Redemption. This Poisons Our Thought And So Paralyses Us In Action.

Imagination Is Nostalgia For The Past, The Absent It Is The Liquid Solution In Which Art Develops The Snapshot Of Reality.