A Good River Is Nature's Life Work

Rigel, Betelgeuse, And Orion. There Was No Finer Church, No Finer Choir, Than The Stars Speaking In Silence To The Many Consumptives Silently Condemned, A Legion Upon The Dark Rooftops. The Wind Came Down From The North Like A Runner In Lacrosse, Violent And Hard, To Batter Every Living Thing. They Were There, Each One Alone In Conversation With The Stars, Mining Ephemeral Love From Cold And Distant Light.

Really The Best Way To Learn About Something Is Simply To Read It And Not Make A Scientific Theory Of Interpretation.

How The Holy And The Profane Mix In The Light Of Day And At The End Of Life Is Sometimes The Most Beautiful Thing In This World And A Compassionate Entry Into The Next. After Failure And Defeat, A Concentration Upon Certain Beauties, Though Forever Lost And Unretrievable, Can Lift The Wounded Past Roundedness And The Dying Past Dying, Protecting Them With An Image, Still And Bright, That Will Ride With Them On Their Long Ride, Never To Fade And Never To Retreat.

I'm Sort Of Murdered For Selling Books. The Idea Is, If You Make Money Your Work Can't Be Literary.

Perhaps He Was A Fool, But He Thought That If A Work Were Truly Great You Would Only Have To Read It Once And You Would Be Stolen From Yourself, Desperately Moved, Changed Forever.