But What's A Writer For? The Whole

My Mother Went To Demonstrations. I Remember Her Going To A Big Demonstration For Earl Brower And She Came Home Crying And Said The Communists Were Very Mean And Booed Their People. I Remember Feeling Sad At Her Feeling Sad.

I Was Fortunate That By The Time I Was Born, There Were A Lot Of Comforts And At The Same Time I Lived In A Neighborhood Where It Was Brought To My Eyes Every Single Day That People Didn't Live Like Me. Every Day I Knew That Many Of My Friends "got Relief." That Was Important In My Thinking About The World, Thinking That Not Everybody Lived That Way.

Hindsight, Usually Looked Down Upon, Is Probably As Valuable As Foresight, Since It Does Include A Few Facts.

What We Owe Men Is Some Freedom From Their Part In A Murderous Game In Which They Kick Each Other To Death With One Foot, Bracing Themselves On Our Various Comfortable Places With The Other.

Everyone, Real Or Invented, Deserves The Open Destiny Of Life.