We Think By Feeling. What Is There

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

Live In A Perpetual Great Astonishment.

Civilization Is Over-rated, But There Isn't Much Else.

In Our Age, If A Boy Or Girl Is Untalented, The Odds Are In Favor Of Their Thinking They Want To Write.

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.