Which Way Will The Sunflower

The Suffering Itself Is Not So Bad; It's The Resentment Against Suffering That Is The Real Pain.

The Apparition Of An Evil, Sick Unconscious Wild City Rose Before Me In Visible Semblance, And About The Dead Buildings In The Barren Air, The Bodies Of The Soul That Built The Wonderland Shuffled And Stalked And Stalked And Lurched In Attitudes Of Immemorial Nightmare All Around.

I Am Neither Romantic Nor A Visionary, And That Is My Weakness And Perhaps My Power; At Any Rate It Is One Difference. In Less Romantic And Visionary Terms, I Am A Jew, (with Powers Of Introspection And Eclecticism Attendant, Perhaps.) But I Am Alien To Your Natural Grace, To The Spirit Which You Would Know As A Participator In America.

The Closet Door Is Open For Me, Where I Left It, Since I Left It Open, It Has Graciously Stayed Open.

Follow Your Inner Moonlight; Don't Hide The Madness.