Pretty girls make graves

For the first time in my life the weather was not something that touched me, that caressed me, froze or sweated me, but became me.

It's all too much and not enough at the same time.

Let nature do the freezing and frightening and isolating in this world. let men work and love and fight it off.

"What do you want out of life?" I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls.

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved.

Anybody doesn't like these pitchers don't like potry, see? Anybody don't like potry go home see television shots of big hatted cowboys being tolerated by kind horses. Robert Frank, Swiss, unobtrusive, nice, with that little camera that he raises and snaps with one hand he sucked a sad poem right out of America onto film, taking rank among the poets of the world. To Robert Frank I now give this message: You got eyes.