They Fought The Enemy, We Fight Fat

One Writes Because One Has A Burning Desire To Objectify What It Is Indispensable To One's Happiness To Express.

The Sweet Air Coming Into Your House On A Fine Day, From Water Etched With Waves As Formal As The Scales On A Fish.

At All Events There Is In Brooklyn Something That Makes Me Feel At Home.

It Is In General True That In Order To Create Works Of Art One Has To Have Leisure. On The Other Hand I Think That One Needs To Experience Resistance In A Practical Sense, And Even That Which Is Poignant To Bring Out What Makes Easy Reading For Others. Too Much Deprivation Of Course, Means Death.

The Weak Overcomes Its/ Menace, The Strong Over-/comes Itself.