Merely To Live Without A Pain Is

The Future Is Like Smoke From A Burning Forest, Waiting For The Wind Of Specific Events And Personal Courage To Blow The Sparks And Embers Of Reality This Way Or That.

Most Of Us Do Know We Have No Immortality. And When You've Found A Genius, Someone Who Has Already Purchased His Immortality In Musical Or Literary Terms, It's Maddening.

You Treat Violence As An Aberration ... When In Truth It Is The Norm. It Is The Very Essence Of The Human Condition.

The Beauty Of That June Day Was Almost Staggering. After The Wet Spring, Everything That Could Turn Green Had Outdone Itself In Greenness And Everything That Could Even Dream Of Blooming Or Blossoming Was In Bloom And Blossom. The Sunlight Was A Benediction. The Breezes Were So Caressingly Soft And Intimate On The Skin As To Be Embarrassing.

Belief In One's Identity As A Poet Or Writer Prior To The Acid Test Of Publication Is As Naive And Harmless As The Youthful Belief In One's Immortality... And The Inevitable Disillusionment Is Just As Painful.