There Is No Pain On This Earth

You Can Get All A's And Still Flunk Life.

How Did It Happen That Now He Could See Everything So Clearly. Something Had Given Him Leave To Live In The Present. Not Once In His Entire Life Had He Come To Rest In The Quiet Center Of Himself But Had Forever Cast Himself From Some Dark Past He Could Not Remember To A Future That Did Not Exist. Not Once Had He Been Present For His Life. So His Life Had Passed Like A Dream. Is It Possible For People To Miss Their Lives The Way One Can Miss A Plane?

Why Is It That One Can Look At A Lion Or A Planet Or An Owl Or At Someone's Finger As Long As One Pleases, But Looking Into The Eyes Of Another Person Is, If Prolonged Past A Second, A Perilous Affair?

To Become Aware Of The Possibility Of The Search Is To Be Onto Something.

I Don't Like To Be Described As A Southern Writer. The Danger Is, If You're Described As A Southern Writer, You Might Be Thought Of As Someone Who Writes About A Picturesque Local Scene Like Uncle Tom's Cabin, Gone With The Wind, Something Like That.