Rather, I think one should write, as nearly as possible, as if he were the first person on earth and was humbly and sincerly putting on paper that which he saw and experienced and loved and lost; what his passing thoughts were and his sorrows and desires.

I like it because its ugly

...but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing.

Sweet life continues in the breeze, in the golden fields.

I wished I could explain it to those I loved, my mother, to Japhy, but there just weren't any words to describe the nothingness and purity of it. "Is there a certain and definite teaching to be given to all living creatures?" was the question probably asked to beetle browed snowy Dipankara, and his answer was the roaring silence of the diamond.

Holding up my purring cat to the moon. I sighed.

stick at it like a benni addict