A Culture Is No Better Than Its

All Works Of Art Are Commissioned In The Sense That No Artist Can Create One By A Simple Act Of Will But Must Wait Until What He Believes To Be A Good Idea For A Work Comes To Him.

No Human Being Is Innocent, But There Is A Class Of Innocent Human Actions Called Games.

Nobody Knows What The Cause Is, Though Some Pretend They Do; It Like Some Hidden Assassin Waiting To Strike At You. Childless Women Get It, And Men When They Retire; It As If There Had To Be Some Outlet For Their Foiled Creative Fire.

There Was Still Gold And Silver In The Mountains, And Hunger Was A More Immediate Sorrow

A Culture Is No Better Than Its Woods