We'll Leave Now, So That

Serene Was A Word You Could Put To Brooklyn New York. Especially In The Summer Of 1912. Somber As A Word Was Better. But It Did Not Apply To Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie Was Lovely And Shenandoah Had A Beautiful Sound But You Couldn't Fit Those Words Into Brooklyn. Serene Was The Only Word For It Especially On A Saturday Afternoon In Summer.

There Had To Be Dark And Muddy Waters So That The Sun Could Have Something To Background It's Flashing Glory.

Because The Child Must Have A Valuable Thing Which Is Called Imagination. The Child Must Have A Secret World In Which Live Things That Never Were. It Is Necessary That She Believe. She Must Start Out Believing In Things Not Of This World. Then When The World Becomes Too Ugly For Living In, The Child Can Reach Back And Live In Her Imagination.

How Much Do They Be Paying You?" He Asked Mellowly. "the Usual Salary. A Little More Than They Think I'm Worth And A Little Less Than I Think I'm Worth.

Who Wants To Die? Everything Struggles To Live. Look At That Tree Growing Up There Out Of That Grating. It Gets No Sun, And Water Only When It Rains. It's Growing Out Of Sour Earth. And It's Strong Because Its Hard Struggle To Live Is Making It Strong. My Children Will Be Strong That Way.