The Clinton's Secret Is That They Live

Everywhere You Hang Your Hat Is Home. Home Is The Bright Cave Under The Hat.

Africa Has A Genious For Extremes, For The Beginning And The End. It Seems Simultaneously Connected To Some Memory Of Eden And To Some Foretaste Of Apocalypse. Nowhere Is Day More Vivid Or Night Darker. Nowhere Are Forests More Luxuriant. Nowhere Is There A Continent More Miserable

As They Marched, The Crowds Lining The Route Broke Into Applause, A Sweet And Deeply Felt Spontaneous Pattering That Was A Sort Of Communal Embrace. Welcome Home.

The Jumbo Jet Is The Airborne Equivalent Of The Interstate Highway...one Might As Well Be Stuffed Into A Cartridge And Shot Through A Pneumatic Tube, Like Interoffice Mail.

Would It Be Anything Like A Literary Disaster If Gore Vidal Were To Fall Silent? Easy. No. In Fact, There Is Something To Be Said For The Idea.