To Be Human Is To Be In

Life Was An Impenetrable Mystery Cloaked In Babble.

My Father Brought Me A Box Of Books Once When I Was About Three And A Half Or Four. I Remember The Carton They Were In And The Covers With Illustrations By Newell C. Wyeth.

When I Begin A Story At My Desk, The Window To My Back, The Path Is Not There. As I Start To Walk, I Make The Path.

Labels Not Only Free Us From The Obligation To Think Creatively; They Numb Our Sensibilities, Our Power To Feel. During The Vietnam War, The Phrase Body Count Entered Our Vocabulary. It Is An Ambiguous Phrase, Inorganic, Even Faintly Sporty. It Distanced Us From The Painful Reality Of Corpses, Of Dead, Mutilated People.

I Don't Like To Listen To Music While I'm Working.