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We Are All the Same Listen to the reeds as they sway apart; Hear them speak of lost friends. At birth, you were cut from your bed, Crying and grasping in separation. Everyone listens, knowing your song. You yearn for others who know your name, And the words to your lament. We are all the same, all the same, Longing to find our way back; Back to the one, back to the only one.

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Brian Aldiss

What were several fewer species of animals compared with a hundred-mile advance and another medal on another general?

Animal, General, Hundred, Miles, Several, Species
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Whatever creativity is, it is in part a solution to a problem.

Creativity, Ideas, Problem, Solution, Success

There are two kinds of writer: those that make you think, and those that make you wonder.

Make, Think, Thinking, Two, Writer, Writing

Relax, enjoy yourself. Have another drink. It's patriotic to overconsume.

Drink, Enjoy, Overconsume, Patriotic, Relax

When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay.

Children, Enter, Fear, Hell, Love, State

Its at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I dont know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind.

Dream, Dreaming, Love, Perhaps, Skull, Sleep
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