No Birdcall Is The Musical Equal Of

Country People Tend To Consider That They Have A Corner On Righteousness And To Distrust Most Manifestations Of Cleverness, While People In The City Are Leery Of Righteousness But Ascribe To Themselves All Manner Of Cleverness.

True Solitude Is A Din Of Birdsong, Seething Leaves, Whirling Colors, Or A Clamor Of Tracks In The Snow.

Our Loneliness Makes Us Avid Column Readers These Days.

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.

There Aren't Many Irritations To Match The Condescension Which A Woman Metes Out To A Man Who She Believes Has Loved Her Vainly For The Past Umpteen Years.