What Is The Point Of It All?

Why Is My Needle Stuck In Childhood? I Don't Know Why. I Guess It's Because That's Where My Heart Is.

I Can't Believe I've Turned Into A Typical Old Man. I Can't Believe It. I Was Young Just Minutes Ago.

I Hate Those E-books. They Can Not Be The Future... They May Well Be... I Will Be Dead.

There Should Be A Place Where Only The Things You Want To Happen, Happen.

I Was Sickly As A Child And Gravitated To Books And Drawing. During My Early Teen Years, I Spent Hundreds Of Hours At My Window, Sketching Neighborhood Children At Play. I Sketched And Listened, And Those Notebooks Became The Fertile Field Of My Work Later On. There Is Not A Book I Have Written Or A Picture I Have Drawn That Does Not, In Some Way, Owe Them Its Existence.