Everywhere I've Turned Somebody Has Wanted To

Eclecticism Is The Word. Like A Jazz Musician Who Creates His Own Style Out Of The Styles Around Him, I Play By Ear.

I Suddenly Recall The Arpeggios Of Laughter Lilting Across The Tender, Springtime Grass-gay-welling, Far-floating, Fluent, Spontaneous, A Bell-like Feminine Fluting, Then Suppressed; As Though Snuffed Swiftly And Irrevocably Beneath The Quiet Solemnity Of The Vespered Air Now Vibrant With Somber Chapel Bells.

And While The Ice Was Melting To Form A Flood In Which I Threatened To Drown I Awoke One Afternoon To Find That My First Northern Winter Had Set.

Please, A Definition: A Hibernation Is A Covert Preparation For A More Overt Action.

America Is Woven Of Many Strands; I Would Recognize Them And Let It So Remain. It's 'winner Take Nothing' That Is The Great Truth Of Our Country Or Of Any Country. Life Is To Be Lived, Not Controlled; And Humanity Is Won By Continuing To Play In Face Of Certain Defeat. Our Fate Is To Become One, And Yet Many - This In Not Prophecy, But Description.