A Conglomerate Heap Of Trash,

Here At This Far Lost End Of The Continent, Where The Trail Wagons Had Stopped And The People With Them.

Grandfather's Been Dead All These Years, But If You Lifted My Skull, By God, In The Convolutions Of My Brain You'd Find The Big Ridges Of His Thumbprint. He Touched Me. As I Said Earlier, He Was A Sculptor. 'i Hate A Roman Named Status Quo!' He Said To Me. 'stuff Your Eyes With Wonder,' He Said, 'live As If You'd Drop Dead In Ten Seconds. See The World. It's More Fantastic Than Any Dream Made Or Paid For In Factories.

Journalism Keeps You Planted In The Earth.

Jump, And You Will Find Out How To Unfold Your Wings As You Fall.

If You're Living In Your Time, You Cannot Help But To Write About The Things That Are Important.