Writing Is Agony For Me. I Work

You Kin Tame A Bear. You Kin Tame A Wild-cat And You Kin Tame A Panther. ... You Kin Tame Arything, Son, Excusin' The Human Tongue.

Writing Is Agony For Me. I Work At It Eight Hours Every Day, Hoping To Get Six Pages, But I Am Satisfied With Three.

The Inferred Is Always More Effective Than The Obvious.

Here In Florida The Seasons Move In And Out Like Nuns In Soft Clothing, Making No Rustle In Their Passing.

Now, Having Left Cities Behind Me, Turned Away Forever From The Strange, Gregarious Huddling Of Men By Stones, I Find Those Various Great Towns I Knew Fused Into One, Burned Together In The Fire Of My Despising.