You sit alone. It's night outside. Automobiles roll down Sunset Boulevard like an endless string of beetles. Their rubber tires make a purring high-class noise. You're hungry, and you say, 'It's not good for my waistline to eat.' There's nothing finer than a washboard belly.
In each religion there are essential things, and others which are only forms and fashions; as a loaf of sugar may perhaps be wrapped in brown or white or blue paper, and tied with a string of flax or wool, red or yellow; but the sugar is always the e
Once I, deemed myself a poet. But when I stood before him in Bethany I knew what is was to hold an instrument with but a single string before one who commands all instruments
You could say it's an accident that I was ideally suited for the work I am doing. It's the feeling of a bow string being pulled back for 22 years and suddenly being let go...