Readers, Not Critics, Are The People Who

This Is The Most Beautiful Place On Earth. There Are Many Such Places. Every Man, Every Woman, Carries In Heart And Mind The Image Of The Ideal Place, The Right Place, The One True Home, Known Or Unknown, Actual Or Visionary.

I, Too, Believe In Fidelity. But How Can I Be True To One Woman Without Being False To All The Others?

Wilderness. The Word Itself Is Music.

The Artist's Job? To Be A Miracle Worker: Make The Blind See, The Dull Feel, The Dead To Live.

Suicide: Don't Knock It If You Ain't Tried It.