I Cannot Believe Such Monstrous Energy Of

People Will Tell You That Writing Is Too Difficult, That It's Impossible To Get Your Work Published, That You Might As Well Hang Yourself. Meanwhile, They'll Keep Writing And You'll Have Hanged Yourself.

Great Things Happen Nationally When Topmost Leadership Is Goaded And Supported From Below.

In University Courses We Do Exercises. Term Papers, Quizzes, Final Examinations Are Not Meant For Publication. We Move Through A Course On Dostoevsky Or Poe As We Move Through A Mildly Good Cocktail Party, Picking Up The Good Bits Of Food Or Conversation, Bearing With The Rest, Going Home When It Comes To Seem The Reasonable Thing To Do. Art, At Those Moments When It Feels Most Like Art -- When We Feel Most Alive, Most Alert, Most Triumphant -- Is Less Like A Cocktail Party Than A Tank Full Of Sharks.

There Is No Limit To Desire But Desire's Needs.

Art Gropes. It Stalks Like A Hunter Lost In The Woods, Listening To Itself And To Everything Around It, Unsure Of Itself, Waiting To Pounce.