Each Body Has Its Art.

Art Is A Refining And Evocative Translation Of The Materials Of The World.

Even If You Are Not Ready For Day It Cannot Always Be Night.

As You Get Older, You Find That Often The Wheat, Disentangling Itself From The Chaff, Comes Out To Meet You.

I Shall Create! If Not A Note, A Hole./if Not An Overture, A Desecration.

The Civil Rights Situation Is Like A Pregnancy. It Will Get Worse, I Believe, Before It Gets Better. What The Usual Pregnancy Comes To Is A Decent Baby. That Is What We All Hope Will Be The End Product Of This Stress. It Is Customary, At The End Of A Pregnancy, To Have For Your Pains A Decent Baby.