I Think The Attempt To

We Are Part Of A Mystery, A Splendid Mystery Within Which We Must Attempt To Orient Ourselves If We Are To Have A Sense Of Our Own Nature.

This Is An Interesting Planet. It Deserves All The Attention You Can Give It.

Two Questions I Can't Really Answer About Fiction Are 1) Where It Comes From, And 2) Why We Need It. But That We Do Create It And Also Crave It Is Beyond Dispute.

Memory Can Make A Thing Seem To Have Been Much More Than It Was.

Families Will Not Be Broken. Curse And Expel Them, Send Their Children Wandering, Drown Them In Floods And Fires, And Old Women Will Make Songs Of All These Sorrows And Sit On The Porch And Sing Them On Mild Evenings.