I Write To Try To Understand, And

Human Vocabulary Is Still Not Capable, And Probably Never Will Be, Of Knowing, Recognizing, And Communicating Everything That Can Be Humanly Experienced And Felt.

Though I Had Come Into The World On 16 November 1922, My Official Documents Show That I Was Born Two Days Later, On The 18th. It Was Thanks To This Petty Fraud That My Family Escaped From Paying The Fine For Not Having Registered My Birth At The Proper Legal Time.

As My Cat Would Say, All Hours Are Good For Sleeping.

A Journey Never Ends. Only The Travellers End.

Reading Is Probably Another Way Of Being In A Place.