In your reading, find books to improve your color sense, your sense of shape and size in the world.

Not to write, for many of us, is to die.

If I was ever a rare fine summer person, that's long ago. Most of us are half-and-half. The August noon in us works to stave off the November chills. We survive by what little Fourth of July wits we've stashed away. But there are times when we're all autumn people.

But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. It can't last.

I don't believe in colleges and universities.

My tunes and numbers are here. They have filled my years, the years when I refused to die. And in order to do that I wrote, I wrote, I wrote, at noon or 3:00 A.M. So as not to be dead.

There is no future for e-books, because they are not books. E-books smell like burned fuel.