All Families Had Their Special Christmas Food.

Corncobs Are The Greatest Fire-making Tinder.

Poetry Is Ordinary Language Raised To The Nth Power. Poetry Is Boned With Ideas, Nerved And Blooded With Emotions, All Held Together By The Delicate, Tough Skin Of Words.

Has The Painter Not Always Gone To An Art School, Or At Least To An Established Master, For Instruction? And The Composer, The Sculptor, The Architect? Then Why Not The Writer? Good Poets, Like Good Hybrid Corn, Are Both Born And Made.

Touch Was Important. The Evening Of The Third Of July We Would Go Around The Neighborhood And Look At The Fireworks Others Had Bought, Taking Them Out Of The Brown Paper Sack And Handling Them Cautiously As If They Were Precious Stones. There Was Envy When We Saw Sacks With More In Them Than We Had.

I Have Lectured At Town Hall N.y., The Library Of Congress, Harvard, Yale, Amherst, Wellesley, Columbia, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Louisiana State University, Colorado, Stanford, And Scores Of Other Places.