It's Odd How Violence And Humor So

The Beauty Of That June Day Was Almost Staggering. After The Wet Spring, Everything That Could Turn Green Had Outdone Itself In Greenness And Everything That Could Even Dream Of Blooming Or Blossoming Was In Bloom And Blossom. The Sunlight Was A Benediction. The Breezes Were So Caressingly Soft And Intimate On The Skin As To Be Embarrassing.

It's Odd How Violence And Humor So Often Go Together, Isn't It?

The Life Of A Poet Lies Not Merely In The Finite Language-dance Of Expression But In The Nearly Infinite Combinations Of Perception And Memory Combined With The Sensitivity To What Is Perceived And Remembered.

The Whole Planet Reeks Of Mysticism Without Revelation.

The Best Advice That An Accomplished Writer Could Give A Beginning Writer Is Probably, "find Your Slide And Then Grease It." Almost Every Writer That Wants A Rewarding Career, In Terms Of Money And Status And Number Of Readers, Finally Finds A Certain Genre Or Certain Style That He Or She Sticks With Until Reaching A Critical Mass Of Readership. And I've Violated This From The Get-go.