He Liked To Read With The Silence

Then It Was Intoxicating. The Smooth Takeoff, And The Free Feeling Of Having The World Drop Away. Soon After Leaving The Ground, They Were Crossing Patches Of Stratus That Lay In The Valleys As Heavy And White As Glaciers. North For The First Time. It Was Still An Adventure, As Exciting As Love, As Frightening.

I Deem As Heroic Those Who Have The Harder Task, Face It Unflinchingly And Live. In This World Women Do That.

I Write Down Portions, Maybe Fragments, And Perhaps An Imperfect View Of What Im Hoping To Write. Out Of That, I Keep Trying To Find Exactly What I Want.

Certain Things I Remember Exactly As They Were. They Are Merely Discolored A Bit By Time, Like Coins In The Pocket Of A Forgotten Suit. Most Of The Details, Though, Have Long Since Been Transformed Or Rearranged To Bring Others Of Them Forward. Some, In Fact, Are Obviously Counterfeit; They Are No Less Important. One Alters The Past To Form The Future.

I Like Men Who Have Known The Best And The Worst, Whose Life Has Been Anything But A Smooth Trip. Storms Have Battered Them, They Have Lain, Sometimes For Months On End, Becalmed. There Is A Residue Even If They Fail. It Has Not Been All Tinkling; There Have Been Grand Chords.