There Was A Lot Of Maneuvering On

First, If You Love The Kindle And It Works For You, It Isn't Problematic, And You Should Ignore All My Criticisms And Read The Way You Want To Read.

I Really Practiced Hard And Got To A Certain Level Of Technical Proficiency. I Overcame Some Of My Limitations. I Was A Hard-working, Dedicated Bassoonist, But I Have To Say I'm Not A Natural Musician.

E.b. White's Essays Are The Best Things I've Read About Maine - Especially The One In Which He's Not Sure If He Can Go Out Sailing Any More In His Sloop.

I Would Like To Visit The Factory That Makes Train Horns, And Ask Them How They Are Able To Arrive At That Chord Of Eternal Mournfulness. Is It Deliberately Sad? Are The Horns Saying, Be Careful, Stay Away From This Train Or It Will Run You Over And Then People Will Grieve, And Their Grief Will Be As The Inconsolable Wail Of This Horn Through The Night? The Out-of-tuneness Of The Triad Is Part Of Its Beauty.

A Problem That I Have With Everything Fictional Is That Writers Are Always Having To Come Up With Sudden Artillery Explosions In The Middle Of Whatever Is Going On. The Characters Are Having Interesting, Subtle Interactions, Or Jealousies, Or Whatever It Is, And Suddenly Some Gigantic Angry Eruption Has To Happen, A Giant Gasp Where Everyone Has To Scramble Around. That's The Point Where I'm Turned Off. I Want The Dynamic Range To Be A Little Smaller. I Don't Like The Big False Bangs.