Look At Things And Listen And Feel.

But I Think The Great Dimaggio Would Be Proud Of Me Today.

The Ocean Is Worth Writing About Just As Man Is.

When I Saw Her I Was In Love With Her. Everything Turned Over Inside Of Me. She Looked Toward The Door, Saw There Was No One, Then She Sat On The Side Of The Bed And Leaned Over And Kissed Me.

The Further You Go In Writing The More Alone You Are.

I Know The Night Is Not The Same As The Day: That All Things Are Different, That The Things Of The Night Cannot Be Explained In The Day, Because They Do Not Then Exist, And The Night Can Be A Dreadful Time For Lonely People Once Their Loneliness Has Started.