A photograph offers us a glimpse into the abyss of time.
New York is of course many cities, and an exile does not return to the one he left.
Human was the music, natural was the static.
Until the 20th century it was generally assumed that a writer had said what he had to say in his works.
To say that war is madness is like saying that sex is madness: true enough, from the standpoint of a stateless eunuch, but merely a provocative epigram for those who must make their arrangements in the world as given.
School is where you go between when your parents can't take you and industry can't take you.