Finally There Is Nothing Here For Death

I Have Been Treated Better Than I Should Have Been---not By Life In General Nor By The Machinery Of Things But By Women.

It Was Only The Matter Of A New Voice. Nobody Listened To An Old Voice Anymore. Old Voices Became A Part Of One's Self, Like A Fingernail.

My Beerdrunk Soul Is Sadder Than All The Dead Christmas Trees Of The World.

I Don't Think I'll Travel Anymore. Travel Is Nothing But An Inconvenience. There Is Always Enough Trouble Where You Are.

Mercy, I Think, Doesn't The Human Race Know Anything About Mercy?