Who tied clock in the hands of the BIRDS? How do they wake up and chirp early morning everyday? My sixth sense is not enough to do this MIRACLE yet!

Four years earlier I had been selected, with Kay Boyle, the writer, and a number of others, to go to Cambodia and come back and prove that there were no sanctuaries in that country.

In that place things begin to wear away even as they are built; the living die a little more each day. The sun is too far away; light slides endlessly into night; fire and love consume themselves; the heart tries to warm itself with ashes.

I&#39;ve never had a study in my life. I&#39;m like Jane Austen - I work on the corner of the dining table.

Written By A. N. Wilson

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