There Was A Time When I Thought

There Is No Answer. It's Okay. But Even If It Wasn't Okay, What Am I Supposed To Do?

It Ought To Make Us Feel Ashamed When We Talk Like We Know What We're Talking About When We Talk About Love.

You're...writing For Other Writers To An Extent-the Dead Writers Whose Work You Admire, As Well As The Living Writers You Like To Read.

That Was In Crescent City, California, Up Near The Oregon Border. I Left Soon After. But Today I Was Thinking Of That Place, Of Crescent City, And Of How I Was Trying Out A New Life There With My Wife, And How, In The Barber's Chair That Morning, I Had Made Up My Mind To Go. I Was Thinking Today About The Calm I Felt When I Closed My Eyes And Let The Barber's Fingers Move Through My Hair, The Sweetness Of Those Fingers, The Hair Already Starting To Grow.

There Was This Funny Thing Of Anything Could Happen Now That We Realized Everything Had.