Applause Is The Beginning Of

The Progress Of Any Writer Is Marked By Those Moments When He Manages To Outwit His Own Inner Police System.

The Iron Man Came To The Top Of The Cliff. How Far Had He Walked? Nobody Knows. Where Did He Come From? Nobody Knows. How Was He Made? Nobody Knows. Taller Than A House The Iron Man Stood At The Top Of The Cliff, At The Very Brink, In The Darkness.

And As If Reporting Some Felony To The Police They Let You Know You Were Not John Donne.

The Real Mystery Is This Strange Need. Why Can't We Just Hide It And Shut Up? Why Do We Have To Blab? Why Do Human Beings Need To Confess?

The Only Calibration That Counts Is How Much Heart People Invest, How Much They Ignore Their Fears Of Being Hurt Or Caught Out Or Humiliated. And The Only Thing People Regret Is That They Didn't Live Boldly Enough, That They Didn't Invest Enough Heart, Didn't Love Enough. Nothing Else Really Counts At All.