You Stupefied Me. We Waxed, Carnivores, Late

Things Can Harden Meaningfully In The Moment Of Indecision

The Soul Is Not A Soul, Has No Secret, Is Small, And It Fits Its Hollow Perfectly: Its Room, Our Moment Of Attention.

The Summer Demands And Takes Away Too Much. /but Night, The Reserved, The Reticent, Gives More Than It Takes

It Is Written In The Book Of Usable Minutes That All Things Have Their Center In Their Dying.

I Would Like To Please The Reader, And I Think That Surprise Has To Be An Element Of This, And That May Necessitate A Certain Amount Of Teasing. To Shock The Reader Is Something Else Again. That Has To Be Handled With Great Care If You're Not Going To Alienate And Hurt Him, And I'm Firmly Against That, Just As I Disapprove Of People Who Dress With That In Mind - Dye Their Hair Blue And Stick Safety Pins Through Their Noses And So On.