While Time, The Endless Idiot, Runs Screaming

Owing To The Fact He Was A Mute They Were Able To Give Him All The Qualities They Wanted Him To Have.

I Have More To Say Than Hemingway, And God Knows, I Say It Better Than Faulkner.

It Was Like They Waited To Tell Each Other Things That Had Never Been Told Before. What She Had To Say Was Terrible And Afraid. But What He Would Tell Her Was So True That It Would Make Everything All Right. Maybe It Was A Thing That Could Not Be Spoken With Words Or Writing. Maybe He Would Have To Let Her Understand This In A Different Way. That Was The Feeling She Had With Him.

People, Unless They Are Nilly-willy Or Very Sick, Cannot Be Taken Into The Hands And Be Changed Overnight Into Somthing More Worth-while And Profitable.

There Is So Much Truth In Children And So Little Self-consciousness. It Always Strikes Me That They Are So Capable Of Losing And Finding Themselves And Also Losing And Finding Those Things They Feel Close To.