There are nascent stirrings in the neighborhood and in the field, articulated by non-celebrated people who bespeak the dreams of their fellows. It may be catching. Unfortunately, it is not covered on the six o'clock news.

Nonetheless, do I have respect for people who believe in the hereafter? Of course I do. I might add, perhaps even a touch of envy too, because of the solace.

Last year I picked up the New York Times and there was a story about a kid from Dartmouth who was bragging that he never left his room, and made dates and ordered pizza with his computer. The piece de resistance of this story was that he had two roommates, and he was proud of the fact that he only talked to them by computer.

The trouble with censorship is that once it starts it is hard to stop. Just about every book contains something that someone objects to.

I want to praise activists through the years. I praise those of the past as well, to have them honored.

People are hungry for stories. It's part of our very being.

I'm not an optimist. I'm hopeful.