No One Can Go On Being A

It Is The Duty Of Every Patriot To Hate His Country Creatively.

I Am Quite Alone. I Am Neither Happy Nor Unhappy; I Lie Suspended Like A Hair Or A Feather In The Cloudy Mixtures Of Memory.

The Heaviest Impact Of The Work Of Art Is In The Guts. Art Does Not Reason. It Manhandles You And Changes You.

It’s Only With Great Vulgarity That You Can Achieve Real Refinement, Only Out Of Bawdry That You Can Get Tenderness.

Frost In January Minus 20 For A Week. Dead Birds Frozen On The Branch—they Fall With The First Thaw Like Ripe Fruit—death-ripened. We Shall All End Like Them—just A Stain In The Snow.