A Work Of Fiction Should

Language Exists Less To Record The Actual Than To Liberate The Imagination.

John Kenneth Galbraith And Marshall Mcluhan Are The Two Greatest Modern Canadians That The U.s. Has Produced.

What Critics Often Ask For Is The Impossible, Though This May Be A Salutary Means Of Extending The Borders Of Art.

The Trombones Crunched Redgold Under My Bed, And Behind My Gulliver The Trumpets Three-wise Silverflamed, And There By The Door The Timps Rolling Through My Guts And Out Again Crunched Like Candy Thunder. Oh, It Was Wonder Of Wonders. And Then, A Bird Of Like Rarest Spun Heavenmetal, Or Like Silvery Wine Flowing In A Spaceship, Gravity All Nonsense Now, Came The Violin Solo Above All The Other Strings, And Those Strings Were Like A Cage Of Silk Around My Bed. Then Flute And Oboe Bored, Like Worms Of Like Platinum, Into The Thick Thick Toffee Gold And Silver. I Was In Such Bliss, My Brothers.

Keep Away From Physicians. It Is All Probing And Guessing And Pretending With Them. They Leave It To Nature To Cure In Her Own Time, But They Take The Credit. As Well As Very Fat Fees.