Poor Little Librarians Of The World, Those

It Never Takes Longer Than A Few Minutes, When They Get Together, For Everyone To Revert To The State Of Nature, Like A Party Marooned By A Shipwreck. That's What A Family Is. Also The Storm At Sea, The Ship, And The Unknown Shore. And The Hats And The Whiskey Stills That You Make Out Of Bamboo And Coconuts. And The Fire That You Light To Keep Away The Beasts.

The Two Dozen Commonplace Childhood Photographs - Snowsuit, Pony, Tennis Racket, Looming Fender Of A Dodge - Were An Inexhaustible Source Of Wonder For Him, At Her Having Existed Before He Met Her, And Of Sadness For His Possessing Nothing Of The Ten Million Minutes Of That Black-and-white Scallop-edged Existence Save These Few Proofs.

As Long As She Was Falling In Love With Me, I Might As Well Start Making Her Promises I Didn't Intend To Keep.

Art Is A Form Of Exploration, Of Sailing Off Into The Unknown Alone, Heading For Those Unmarked Places On The Map. If Children Are Not Permitted-not Taught-to Be Adventurers And Explorers As Children, What Will Become Of The World Of Adventure, Of Stories, Of Literature Itself?

I Was Thinking, Too, Of Superman And His Fortress Of Solitude.