The journey of life is like a man riding a bicycle. We know he got on the bicycle and started to move. We know that at some point he will stop and get off. We know that if he stops moving and does not get off he will fall off. – Sir William Golding who was born on this day in 1911.
He also said:
My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.
Language fits over experience like a straight-jacket.
Novelists do not write as birds sing, by the push of nature. It is part of the job that there should be much routine and some daily stuff on the level of carpentry.