It Is The Loose Ends With Which

Oh, The Secret Life Of Man And Woman--dreaming How Much Better We Would Be Than We Are If We Were Somebody Else Or Even Ourselves, And Feeling That Our Estate Has Been Unexploited To Its Fullest.

We Grew Up Founding Our Dreams On The Infinite Promise Of American Advertising. I Still Believe That One Can Learn To Play The Piano By Mail And That Mud Will Give You A Perfect Complexion.

I Play The Radio And Moon About...and Dream Of Utopias Where Its Always July The 24th 1935, In The Middle Of Summer Forever.

By The Time A Person Has Achieved Years Adequate For Choosing A Direction, The Die Is Cast And The Moment Has Long Since Passed Which Determined The Future.

It Seemed To Alabama That, Reaching Her Goal, She Would Drive The Devils That Had Driven Her - That, In Proving Herself, She Would Achieve That Peace Which She Imagined Went Only In Surety Of One’s Self - That She Would Be Able, Through The Medium Of The Dance, To Command Her Emotions, To Summon Love Or Pity Or Happiness At Will, Having Provided A Channel Through Which They Might Flow. She Drove Herself Mercilessly, And The Summer Dragged On.