A Kiss Without A Mustache Is Like

Plants And Animals Repeat Routine, But Men Who Are Not Restrained Will Go Into The Future Like Explorers Into A New Country.

The Prairies Were Dust. Day After Day, Summer After Summer, The Scorching Winds Blew The Dust And The Sun Was Brassy In A Yellow Sky. Crop After Crop Failed. Again And Again The Barren Land Must Be Mortgaged For Taxes And Food And Next Year's Seed. The Agony Of Hope Ended When There Was Not Harvest And No More Credit, No Money To Pay Interest And Taxes; The Banker Took The Land. Then The Bank Failed.

The First Twenty Years Of My Life Were Wasted. I Didn't Fit My Environment, And I Didn't Know Any Other.

No State, No Government Exists. What Does In Fact Exist Is A Man, Or A Few Men, In Power Over Many Men.

Writing Fiction Is An Endless And Always Defeated Effort To Capture Some Quality Of Life Without Killing It.