I Never Met A Man Who Was

Writers Serve As The Memory Of A People. They Chew Over Our Public Past.

Peeping Through My Keyhold I See Within The Range Of Only About 30 Percent Of The Light That Comes From The Sun; The Rest Is Infrared And Some Little Ultraviolet, Perfectly Apparent To Many Animals, But Invisible To Me. A Nightmare Network Of Ganglia, Charged And Firing Without My Knowledge, Cuts And Splices What I See, Editing It For My Brain. Donald E. Carr Points Out That The Sense Impressions Of One-celled Animals Are Not Edited For The Brian: 'this Is Philosophically Interesting In A Rather Mournful Way, Since It Means That Only The Simplest Animals Perceive The Universe As It Is.

I Can't Dance Anymore. Total Knee Replacements. I Can't Do Anything Anymore.

Nothing Moves A Woman So Deeply As The Boyhood Of The Man She Loves.

People Who Read Are Not Too Lazy To Turn On The Television; They Prefer Books.