Boughton Says He Has More Ideas About

I Wish I Could Leave You Certain Of The Images In My Mind, Because They Are So Beautiful That I Hate To Think They Will Be Extinguished When I Am. Well, But Again, This Life Has Its Own Mortal Loveliness. And Memory Is Not Strictly Mortal In Its Nature, Either. It Is A Strange Thing, After All, To Be Able To Return To A Moment, When It Can Hardly Be Said To Have Any Reality At All, Even In Its Passing. A Moment Is Such A Slight Thing. I Mean, That Its Abiding Is A Most Gracious Reprieve.

I Think Probably One Of The Important Things That Happened To Me Was Growing Up In Idaho In The Mountains, In The Woods, And Having A Very Strong Presence Of The Wilderness Around Me. That Never Felt Like Emptiness. It Always Felt Like Presence.

The Locus Of The Human Mystery Is Perception Of This World. From It Proceeds Every Thought, Every Art.

Every Single One Of Us Is A Little Civilization Built On The Ruins Of Any Number Of Preceding Civilizations, But With Our Own Variant Notions Of What Is Beautiful And What Is Acceptable - Which, I Haste To Add, We Generally Do Not Satisfy And By Which We Struggle To Live.

I Am Grateful For All Those Dark Years, Even Though In Retrospect They Seem Like A Long, Bitter Prayer That Was Answered Finally.