The Novelist Screws Up His Courage In

It's Incongruous That The Older We Get, The More Likely We Are To Turn In The Direction Of Religion. Less Vivid And Intense Ourselves, Closer To The Grave, We Begin To Conceive Of Ourselves As Immortal.

Land Of Opportunity, Land For The Huddled Masses Where Would The Opportunity Have Been Without The Genocide Of Those Old Guard, Bristling Indian Tribes?

The Zest For Life Of Those Unusual Men And Women Who Make A Great Zealous Success Of Living Is Due More Often In Good Part To The Craftiness And Pertinacity With Which They Manage To Overlook The Misery Of Others. You Can Watch Them Watch Life Beat The Stuffing Out Of The Faces Of Their Friends And Acquaintances, Although They Themselves Seem To Outwit The Dense Delays Of Social Custom, The Tedious Tick-tock Of Bureaucratic Obfuscation, Accepting Loss And Age And Change And Disappointment Without Suffering Punctures In Their Stomach Lining.

Our Loneliness Makes Us Avid Column Readers These Days.

A Mountain With A Wolf On It Stands A Little Taller.