A Man Who Lives, Not By What

To See The Earth As We Now See It, Small And Beautiful In That Eternal Silence Where It Floats, Is To See Ourselves As Riders On The Earth Together, Brothers On That Bright Loveliness In The Unending Night ~ Brothers Who See Now They Are Truly Brothers.

The Roots Of The Grass Strain, Tighten, The Earth Is Rigid, Waits-he Is Waiting- And Suddenly, And All At Once, The Rain!

Races Didn't Bother The Americans. They Were Something A Lot Better Than Any Race. They Were A People. They Were The First Self-constituted, Self-declared, Self-created People In The History Of The World.

Conventional Wisdom Notwithstanding, There Is No Reason Either In Football Or In Poetry Why The Two Should Not Meet In A Man's Life If He Has The Weight And Cares About The Words.

The American Mood, Perhaps Even The American Character, Has Changed. There Are Few Manifestations Any Longer Of The Old American Self-assurance Which So Irritated Dickens. Instead, There Is A Sense Of Frustration So Perceptible That Even Our Politicians Have Attempted To Exploit It.