The Disease We All Have And That

It Was A Cold Day But The Sun Was Out And The Trees Were Like Great Bonfires Against Gray Distant Fields And Hills.

I Had A World, And It Slipped Away From Me. The War Blew Up More Than The Bodies Of Men....it Blew Ideas Away.

The Machines Men Are So Intent On Making Have Carried Them Very Far From The Old Sweet Things.

If You Are To Become A Writer You'll Have To Stop Fooling With Words.

When A Job Is To Be Done There's No Use Putting It Off.