I Get Rational When I Panic.

Dreams: The Place Most Of Us Get What We Need.

An Idea Might Spark An Essay, But Never A Story.

I Have Written Letters That Are Failures, But I Have Written Few, I Think, That Are Lies. Trying To Reach A Person Means Asking The Same Question Over And Over Again: Is This The Truth, Or Not? I Begin This Letter To You, Then, In The Western Tradition. If I Understand It, The Western Tradition Is: Put Your Cards On The Table.

All Those Years On The Psychiatrist's Couch And Suddenly The Couch Is Moving. Good God, She Is On That Couch When The Big One Hits. Maidy Didn't Tell You, But You Know What Her Doctor Said? She Sprang From The Couch And Said, "my God, Was That An Earthquake?" The Doctor Said This: "did It Feel Like An Earthquake To You?

Maybe This Is Not A Come-down-from-the-ledge Story. But I Tell It With The Thought That The Woman On The Ledge Will Ask Herself A Question, The Question That Occurred To That Man In Bogota. He Wondered How We Know That What Happens To Us Isn't Good?