We Are Homesick Most For The Places

But The Hearts Of Small Children Are Delicate Organs. A Cruel Beginning In This World Can Twist Them Into Curious Shapes.

The Curt Truth Is That, In A Deep Secret Way, The State Of Being Beloved Is Intolerable To Many. The Beloved Fears And Hates The Lover, And With The Best Of Reasons. For The Lover Is Forever Trying To Strip Bare His Beloved. The Lover Craves Any Possible Relation With The Beloved, Even If This Experience Can Cause Him Only Pain.

The Human Heart Is A Lonely Hunter-but The Search For Us Southerners Is More Anguished.

They Are The We Of Me.

It Was Better To Be In A Jail Where You Could Bang The Walls Than In A Jail You Could Not See.