Trees Trees, proud standing people stretching fingertips to the sky, reaching, praying glorious attention, breathing light. strength shelter timeless confidence bending and firm comforting rooted chorus line dancing with the moon, the wind, the clouds framing bursts of stars tender rugged celebration absorbing and releasing life each holy branch holding the power of the Universe. There.

We have been a little insane about the truth. We have had an obsession.

New York is a field of tireless and antagonistic interests undoubtedly fascinating but horribly unreal. Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors.

Everything is complicated; if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.

The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.

The imagination is the liberty of the mind It is intrpeid and eager and the extreme of its achievement lies in abstraction.

The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.