Memory Whispers Someplace In That Jumbled Machinery.

Time Overlaps Itself. A Breath Breathed From A Passing Breeze Is Not The Whole Wind, Neither Is It Just The Last Of What Has Passed And The First Of What Will Come, But Is More--let Me See--more Like A Single Point Plucked On A Single Strand Of A Vast Spider Web Of Winds, Setting The Whole Scene Atingle. That Way; It Overlaps ... As Prehistoric Ferns Grow From Bathtub Planters.

Tricker The Squirrel Is The Best Piece I Ever Wrote. It's Intricate.

I Don't Think You Fully Understand The Public, My Friend; In This Country, When Something Is Out Of Order, Then The Quickest Way To Get It Fixed Is The Best Way.

The Haight Is Just A Place; The '60s Was A Spirit.

All I Know Is This: Nobody's Very Big In The First Place, And It Looks To Me Like Everybody Spends Their Whole Life Tearing Everybody Else Down.