Ideally, each piece of art's its own unique object, and its evaluation's always present-tense.

The sound of wind had become, for me, silence. When it went away, I was left with the squeak of the blood in my head and the aural glitter of all those little eardrum hairs quivering like a drunk in withdrawal.

He knew what the Beats know and what the great tennis player knows, son: learn to do nothing, with your whole head and body, and everything will be done by what's around you.

Most of us will still take nihilism over neanderthalism.

Mary had a little lamb, its fleece electrostatic / And everywhere Mary went, the lights became erratic.

Rap's conscious response to the poverty and oppression of U.S. blacks is like some hideous parody of sixties black pride.

Good literature makes your head throb heartlike