I'm one of the cliches that has grown up.
Were all moving, moving, moving. Isnt it nice?
This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.
I take space to be the central fact to man born in America. I spell it large because it comes large here. Large and without mercy.
What does not change is the will to change
I'm trying to climb up both walls at once.