A Man Is A Writer

The Ocean, Under The Pulsation Of Lighthouses And Noise Of Bell Buoys, Advances As Usual, Looking As If It Were Not That Ocean In Which Dropped Things Are Bound To Sink-- In Which If They Turn And Twist, It Is Neither With Volition Nor Consciousness.

Among Animals, One Has A Sense Of Humor. Humor Saves A Few Steps, It Saves Years.

Revision Is Its Own Reward.

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

I'm Troubled. I'm Dissatisfied. I'm Irish.