Our earth is but a small star in a great universe. Yet of it we can make, if we choose, a planet unvexxed by war, untroubled by hunger or fear, undivided by senseless distinctions of race, color or theory.

Dreaming men are haunted men.

Since graveyards are often built over older burial grounds, I assume Dolores Park was probably an Indian, (an Ohlone) graveyard before that. I think the fact that it has so many layers underneath the contemporary one intrigues me.

Books are not men and yet they are alive.

I think a blog is a catalyst for a number of possible kinds of writing besides being its own medium.

Life is not lost by dying! Life is lost, Minute by minute, day by dragging day, In all the thousand, small, uncaring ways...

When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.