The Truth Came Slowly Like A Story

My Father Brought Me A Box Of Books Once When I Was About Three And A Half Or Four. I Remember The Carton They Were In And The Covers With Illustrations By Newell C. Wyeth.

To Be Human Is To Be In A Story.

Labels Not Only Free Us From The Obligation To Think Creatively; They Numb Our Sensibilities, Our Power To Feel. During The Vietnam War, The Phrase Body Count Entered Our Vocabulary. It Is An Ambiguous Phrase, Inorganic, Even Faintly Sporty. It Distanced Us From The Painful Reality Of Corpses, Of Dead, Mutilated People.

My First Job Was Working In A Dress Shop In Los Angeles In 1940, For $7 A Week.

My Life Was Incoherent To Me. I Felt It Quivering, Spitting Out Broken Teeth.