Those Who Despair Of Life Are Not

Art Is A Framework, A Kind Of Living Trellis, On Which Public Dreaming Can Shape Itself.

The Surprise Of Animals... In And Out, Cats And Dogs And A Milk Goat And Chickens And Guinea Hens, All Taken For Granted, As If Man Was Intended To Live On Terms Of Friendly Intercourse With The Rest Of Creation Instead Of Huddling In Isolation On The Fourteenth Floor Of An Apartment House In A City Where Animals Occurred Behind Bars In The Zoo.

I Am Not Sure How Many "sins" I Would Recognize In The World. Some Would Surely Be Defused By Changed Circumstances. But I Can Imagine None That Is More Irredeemably Sinful Than The Betrayal, The Exploitation, Of The Young By Those Who Should Care For Them.

We Older Women Who Know We Aren't Heroines Can Offer Our Younger Sisters, At The Very Least, An Honest Report Of What We Have Learned And How We Have Grown.

We Don't Get Offered Crises, They Arrive.