“As things stand now, I am going to be a writer. I’m not sure that I’m going to be a good one or even a self-supporting one, but until the dark thumb of fate presses me to the dust and says ‘you are nothing’ I will be a writer.” —Unknown
1950's Classroom - primary school. There were pots of ink in those inkwells and we used horrible pens which were a piece of wood with a nib attached. I could never get the hang of writing with them. I was thrilled when I could use a fountain pen years later.