The Scornful Force Of His Tone Turned

This Was The Tree, And It Seemed To Me Standing There To Resemble Those Men, The Giants Of Your Childhood, Whom You Encounter Years Later And Find That They Are Not Merely Smaller In Relation To Your Growth, But They Are Absolutely Smaller, Shrunken By Age. In This Double Demotion The Old Giants Have Become Pygmies While You Were Looking The Other Way.

So The More Things Remain The Same, The More They Change After All.

Sarcasm Is The Protest Of The Weak.

But I Was Used To Finding Something Deadly In Things That Attracted Me; There Was Always Something Deadly Lurking In Anything I Wanted, Anything I Loved.

Stranded In This Mill Town Railroad Yard While The Whole World Was Converging Elsewhere, We Seemed To Be Nothing But Children Playing Among Heroic Men.