Baseball Is A Game Played By Idiots

The Lights Grow Brighter As The Earth Lurches Away From The Sun.

In Crowded Rooms They Would Form Words With Their Lips For Each Other's Eyes

Yet High Over The City Our Line Of Yellow Windows Must Have Contributed Their Share Of Human Secrecy To The Casual Watcher In The Darkening Streets, And I Was Him Too, Looking Up And Wondering. I Was Within And Without, Simultaneously Enchanted And Repelled By The Inexhaustible Variety Of Life.

She Smiled At Him, Making Sure That The Smile Gathered Up Everything Inside Her And Directed It Toward Him, Making Him A Profound Promise Of Herself For So Little, For The Beat Of A Response, The Assurance Of A Complimentary Vibration In Him.

When The Lightning Strikes One Of Us, It Strikes Both