To Be Mad Is To Feel With

She Died On A Windy Gray Day In March When The Sky Was Full Of Darting Crows And The World Lay Prostrate And Defeated After Winter. Peter Lake Was At Her Side And It Ruined Him Forever. It Broke Him As He Had Not Ever Imagined He Could Have Been Broken. He Would Never Again Be Young, Or Able To Remember What It Was Like To Be Young. What He Had Once Taken To Be Pleasures Would Appear To Him In His Defeat As Hideous And Deserved Punishments For Reckless Vanity.

[when] He's Here, He's Always Reading. He Says Books Stop Time. I Myself Think He's Crazy...don't Tell Anyone, But When He Reads Something That He Likes He Gets Real Happy, Turns On The Music, And Dances By Himself, Or With A Broom Sometimes.

If Nothing Is Random, And Everything Is Predetermined, How Can There Be Free Will? The Answer To That Is Simple. Nothing Is Predetermined; It Is Determined, Or Was Determined, Or Will Be Determined.

Writing Is Still My Main Career, But I Would Love, For Instance, To Serve In The New York State Assembly.

And How Does God Speak To You?" "in The Language Of Everything That Is Beautiful.