While You Are Living, Part Of You

Gertrude Stein, All Courage And Will, Is A Soldier Of Minimalism. Her Work, Unlike The Resonating Silences In The Art Of Samuel Beckett, Embodies In Its Loquacity And Verbosity The Curious Paradox Of The Minimalist Form. This Art Of The Nuance In Repetition And Placement She Shares With The Orchestral Compositions Of Philip Glass.

When You Travel Your First Discovery Is That You Do Not Exist.

A Letter Is Not A Dialogue Or Even An Omniscient Exposition. It Is A Fabric Of Surfaces, A Mask, A Form As Well Suited To Affectations As To The Affections. The Letter Is, By Its Natural Shape, Self-justifying; It Is One's Own Evidence, Deposition, A Self-serving Testimony. In A Letter The Writer Holds All The Cards, Controls Everything About Himself And About Those Assertions He Wishes To Make Concerning Events Or The Worth Of Others. For Completely Self-centered Characters, The Letter Form Is A Complex And Rewarding Activity.

The Fifties - They Seem To Have Taken Place On A Sunny Afternoon That Asked Nothing Of You Except A Drifting Belief In The Moment And Its Power To Satisfy.

The Famous Carry About With Them A Great Weight Of Patriarchal Baggage-the Footnotes Of Their Lives.