The Night Kept Coming On In And

Your Writing", She Said To Me, "it's So Raw. It's Like A Sledgehammer, And Yet It Has Humor And Tenderness. . . .

I Heard An Airplane Passing Overhead. I Wished I Was On It.

...in That Drunken Place You Would Like To Hand Your Heart To Her And Say Touch It But Then Give It Back.

Some People Have Written That My Writing Has Helped Them Go On. It Has Helped Me Too. The Writing, The Roses, The 9 Cats.

My Objection To War Was Not That I Had To Kill Somebody Or Be Killed Senselessly, That Hardly Mattered. What I Objected To Was To Be Denied The Right To Sit In A Small Room And Starve And Drink Cheap Wine And Go Crazy In My Own Way And At My Own Leisure.