Hale, With A Tasty Love Of Intellectual

There Is A Misconception Of Tragedy With Which I Have Been Struck In Review After Review, And In Many Conversations With Writers And Readers Alike. It Is The Idea That Tragedy Is Of Necessity Allied To Pessimism.

The Concentration Camp Is The Final Expression Of Human Separateness And Its Ultimate Consequence. It Is Organized Abandonment.

The Camera Has Its Own Kind Of Consciousness; In The Lens The Garden Of Eden Itself Would Become Ever So Slightly Too Perfect.

They Know Your Name, Address, Telephone Number, Credit Card Numbers, Who Else Is Driving The Car "for Insurance", ... Your Driver's License Number. In The State Of Massachusetts, This Is The Same Number As That Used For Social Security, Unless You Object To Such Use. In That Case, You Are Assigned A Number And You Reside Forever More On The List Of "weird People Who Don't Give Out Their Social Security Number In Massachusetts."

The Shadow Of A Cornstalk On The Ground Is Lovely, But It Is No Denial Of Its Loveliness To See As One Looks On It That It Is Telling The Time Of Day, The Position Of The Earth And The Sun, The Size Of Our Planet And Its Shape, And Perhaps Even The Length Of Its Life And Ours Among The Stars.