I´m A Stranger In A Strange Land.

You Don't Know What It Is To Store Up A Lot Of Details And Then Come Upon Something Real.

Southerners Are The More Lonely And Spiritually Estranged, I Think, Because We Have Lived So Long In An Artificial Social System That We Insisted Was Natural And Right And Just - When All Along We Knew It Wasn't.

This Was Her, Mick Kelly, Walking In The Daytime And By Herself At Night. In The Hot Sun And In The Dark With All The Plans And Feelings. This Music Was Her—the Real Plain Her...this Music Did Not Take A Long Time Or A Short Time. It Did Not Have Anything To Do With Time Going By At All. She Sat With Her Arms Around Her Legs, Biting Her Salty Knee Very Hard. The Whole World Was This Symphony, And There Was Not Enough Of Her To Listen... Now That It Was Over There Was Only Her Heart Beating Like A Rabbit And This Terrible Hurt.

Love Is The Main Generator Of All Good Writing... Love, Passion, Compassion, Are All Welded Together.

The Way I Need You Is A Loneliness I Cannot Bear.