I Have No Confidence In A Man

One Cat In A House Is A Sign Of Loneliness.

Look At This Poet William Carlos Williams: He Is Primitive And Native, And His Roots Are In Raw Forest And Violent Places; He Is Word-sick And Place-crazy. He Admires Strength, But For What? Violence! This Is The Cult Of The Frontier Mind.

We Can Only Write Well About Our Sins Because It Is Too Difficult To Recall A Virtuous Act Or Even Whether It Was The Result Of Good Or Evil Motives.

No People Require Maxims So Much As The American. The Reason Is Obvious: The Country Is So Vast, The People Always Going Somewhere, From Oregon Apple Valley To Boreal New England, That We Do Not Know Whether To Be Temperate Orchards Or Sterile Climate.

When One Realizes That His Life Is Worthless He Either Commits Suicide Or Travels.