Dear Jesus, Do Something.

Devices Which In Some Curious New Way Imitate Nature Are Attractive To Simple Minds.

For Better Or Worse, It Is The Commentator Who Has The Last Word.

I Think She Always Nursed A Small Mad Hope.

Do Not Be Awed By Giant Predecessors. Be Ill-tempered With Their Renown. Point Out Flaws. Frighten Interviewers From Time. Appear In Playboy. Sell To The Movies.

A Sense Of Security, Of Well-being, Of Summer Warmth Pervades My Memory. That Robust Reality Makes A Ghost Of The Present. The Mirror Brims With Brightness; A Bumblebee Has Entered The Room And Bumps Against The Ceiling. Everything Is As It Should Be, Nothing Will Ever Change, Nobody Will Ever Die.