Bright Was The Light Of My Last

To Blame The Poor For Subsisting On Welfare Has No Justice Unless We Are Also Willing To Judge Every Rich Member Of Society By How Productive He Or She Is. Taken Individual By Individual, It Is Likely That There's More Idleness And Abuse Of Government Favors Among The Economically Privileged Than Among The Ranks Of The Disadvantaged.

On A Late-winter Evening In 1983, While Driving Through Fog Along The Maine Coast, Recollections Of Old Campfires Began To Drift Into The March Mist, And I Thought Of The Abnaki Indians Of The Algonquin Tribe Who Dwelt Near Bangor A Thousand Years Ago.

Part Of Living, Part Of Becoming A Wise Man Or A Wise Woman, Is To Get To That Point Where You Can Have A Friend For Whom You Are Genuinely Happy When He Or She Has A Success. That's Tough. Very Few People Get To That Point. With Writers It's Next To Impossible. You Can't Really Bless A Writer Who's As Good As Yourself.

I Was Now At A University In New York, A Professor Of Existential Psychology With The Not Inconsiderable Thesis That Magic, Dread, And The Perception Of Death Were The Roots Of Motivation.

Armstrong, Sitting In The Commander's Seat, Spacesuit On, Helmet On, Plugged Into Electrical And Environmental Umbilical's, Is A Man Who Is Not Only A Machine Himself In The Links Of These Networks, But Is Also A Man Sitting In (what Collins Is Later To Call) A 'mini-cathedral.' A Man Somewhat More Than A Pilot, Somewhat More Than A Superpilot, Is In Fact A Veritable High Priest Of The Forces Of Society And Scientific History Concentrated In That Mini Cathedral, A General Of The Church Of The Forces Of Technology.