Is Magic Not Enough To Live For?

I Am Haunted By The Ghost Of My Father, I Think That Should Allow Me To Quote Hamlet As Much As I Please.

I Paint Very Messy. I Throw Paint Around. So When I Let Myself Do The Same Sort Of Thing With My Writing, And I Would Just Write And Write And Write And Revise, That's When I Found My Rhythm In Writing.

A Woman I Should Like To Think I Know Rather Well And A Woman I Had Always Considered A Mystery, Are In Fact The Same Person.

Which Tent Is Your Favourite?" He Asks. "the Ice Garden," Celia Answers, Without Even Pausing To Consider. "why Is That?" Marco Asks. "because Of The Way It Feels," She Says. "it's Like Walking Into A Dream. As Though It Is Someplace Else Entirely And Not Simply Another Tent.

I Would Have Written You, Myself, If I Could Put Down In Words Everything I Want To Say To You. A Sea Of Ink Would Not Be Enough.' 'but You Built Me Dreams Instead.