My Only Regret In Life Is That

Writing, At Its Best, Is A Lonely Life.

Some People Show Evil As A Great Racehorse Shows Breeding. They Have The Dignity Of A Hard Chancre.

We Wait Always For Something That Does Not Come.

To Stay In Places And To Leave, To Trust, To Distrust, To No Longer Believe And Believe Again, . . . To Watch The Snow Come, To Watch It Go, To Hear Rain On A Tent, To Know Where I Can Find What I Want.

Your Blood Coagulates Beautifully.