It Wasn't That I Had Gotten It

Most National Correspondents Will Tell You They Rely On Stringers And Researchers And Interns And Clerks And News Assistants.

You Do Not Hate The Time You Waste; It Evokes A Much More Passive Emotion Than That. You Only Wish You Had It Back, Like A Quarter In An Unlucky Slot Machine.

Passion Is Something You Really Don't Miss, After It Has Cooled. It Is Like Looking At An Empty Bottle On The Side Of The Road And Thinking, "boy, I Wish I Had A Coke." The Loves You Miss Are The Ones That Go Away When They Are Still Warm, Even Hot, To The Touch.

I Believe That If We Are Going To Write About Life And Death, We Should Not Do It From The Cheap Seats.

Like Most Men, Jimmy Jim Was Neither All Good Nor All Bad. It Is Just That When He Was Bad, Gentler People Saw In Him A Disturbing Fury. People, A Lot Them, Don't Understand Fury. They Understand Anger And Even Hatred, But Fury Is One Of Those Old Words That Have Gone Out Of Style. Jimmy Jim Bundrum Understood It. It Rode His Shoulder Like A Parrot.