The Great Is Seldom A Deterrent To

The Private And Serious Drama Of Guilt Is Not Often A Useful One For Fiction Today And Its Disappearance, Following Perhaps The Disappearance From Life, Appears As A Natural, Almost Unnoticed Relief, Like Some Of The Challenging Illnesses Wiped Out By Drug And Vaccines.

It Is June. This Is What I Have Decided To Do With My Life Just Now. I Will Do This Work And Lead This Life, The One I Am Leading Today. Each Morning The Blue Clock And The Crocheted Bedspread, The Table With The Phone, The Books And Magazines, The Times At The Door.

The Fifties - They Seem To Have Taken Place On A Sunny Afternoon That Asked Nothing Of You Except A Drifting Belief In The Moment And Its Power To Satisfy.

Sentences In Which I Have Tried For A Certain Light Tone -- Many Of Those Have To Do With Events, Upheavals, Destructions That Caused Me To Weep Like A Child.

Self-love Is An Idolatry. Self-hatred Is A Tragedy.