Just As The Habit Does Not Make

The World Had Already Changed Before September 11. The World Has Been Going Through A Process Of Change Over The Last 20 Or 30 Years. A Civilization Ends, Another One Begins.

Perhaps It Is The Language That Chooses The Writers It Needs, Making Use Of Them So That Each Might Express A Tiny Part Of What It Is.

There Is Nothing Healthier For A Man Than To Walk On His Own Two Legs.

Perhaps Only In A World Of The Blind Will Things Be What They Truly Are.

Words Are Like That, They Deceive, They Pile Up, It Seems They Do Not Know Where To Go, And, Suddenly, Because Of Two Or Three Or Four That Suddenly Come Out, Simple In Themselves, A Personal Pronoun, An Adverb, An Adjective, We Have The Excitement Of Seeing Them Coming Irresistibly To The Surface Through The Skin And The Eyes And Upsetting The Composure Of Our Feelings, Sometimes The Nerves That Can Not Bear It Any Longer, They Put Up With A Great Deal, They Put Up With Everything, It Was As If They Were Wearing Armor, We Might Say.