I Like To See Life With Its

Language, At Least, May Give Up The Secrets Of Life And Death, Leading Us Through The Maze To The Original Word As Monster Or Angel, To The Mournful Place Where We May Meet Job And Hear His Cry, 'how Long Will You Vex My Soul And Break Me In Pieces With Words?

I Must Go Down To The Seas Again To Find Where I Buried The Hatchet With Yesterday.

All Writers - All Beings - Are Exiles As A Matter Of Course. The Certainty About Living Is That It Is A Succession Of Expulsions Of Whatever Carries The Life Force...all Writers Are Exiles Wherever They Live And Their Work Is A Lifelong Journey Towards The Lost Land.

Death Is A Dramatic Accomplishment Of Absence; Language May Be Almost As Effective.

All Writers Are Exiles Wherever They Live And Their Work Is A Lifelong Journey Towards The Lost Land.