There's A Lot Of Landscape I Never

A Single Person Is Missing For You, And The Whole World Is Empty.

When I Began Writing These Pages I Believed Their Subject To Be Children, The Ones We Have And The Ones We Wish We Had, The Ways In Which We Depend On Our Children To Depend On Us, The Ways In Which We Encourage Them To Remain Children, The Ways In Which They Remain More Unknown To Us Than They Do To Their More Casual Acquaintances; The Ways In Which We Remain Equally Opaque To Them.

Writers Are Always Selling Somebody Out.

California: The West Coast Of Iowa.

Was It Only By Dreaming Or Writing That I Could Find Out What I Thought?