The Writer Is By Nature A Dreamer

There Are All These People Here I Don't Know By Sight Or By Name. And We Pass Alongside Each Other And Don't Have Any Connection. And They Don't Know Me And I Don't Know Them. And Now I'm Leaving Town And There Are All These People I Will Never Know.

For In A Swift Radiance Of Illumination He Saw A Glimpse Of Human Struggle And Valor. Of The Endless Fluid Passage Of The Humanity Through Endless Time. And Of Those Who Labor And Of Those Who - One Word- Love. His Soul Expanded. But For A Moment Only. For In Him, He Felt A Warning, A Shaft Of Terror.

Comparing The Brooklyn That I Know With Manhattan Is Like Comparing A Comfortable And Complacent Duenna To Her More Brilliant And Neurotic Sister.

Love Is A Joint Experience Between Two Persons -- But The Fact That It Is A Joint Experience Does Not Mean That It Is A Similar Experience To The Two People Involved.

We Wander, Question. But The Answer Waits In Each Separate Heart - The Answer Of Our Own Identity And The Way By Which We Can Master Loneliness And Feel That At Last We Belong.