As A Child I Thought It Was

A Need To Tell And Hear Stories Is Essential To The Species Homo Sapiens-second In Necessity Apparently After Nourishment And Before Love And Shelter. Millions Survive Without Love Or Home, Almost None In Silence; The Opposite Of Silence Leads Quickly To Narrative, And The Sound Of Story Is The Dominant Sound Of Our Lives, From The Small Accounts Of Our Day's Events To The Vast Incommunicable Constructs Of Psychopaths.

Writing Is A Fearsome But Grand Vocation—potentially Healing But Likewise Deadly. I Wouldn’t Trade My Life For The World.

Life Is Short And Often Stingy; Feast The Heart With What It Craves, Short Of Cruelty, And Let The World Wonder.

The Death Of Every Art Form Seems Imminent At Least Once In Every Century; But While The Very Funeral Arrangements Go Forward, Some Child Is Born Who Is Michelangelo, Picasso, Yeats.

I Think We Southerners Have Talked A Fair Amount Of Malarkey About The Mystique Of Being Southern.