What do you love most? Most of all, I love being alive. I love the natural world—and caring and creative people—and the seekers of justice and truth. Whom do I disdain? Bigots, reactionaries, self-righteous people, zealots, trimmers, bullies, and manipulators.

Kafka, Hart Crane, Jackson Pollock, Tennessee Williams, Mark Rothko, melancholics all, so why shouldn’t we accept our own bleakness and take long walks in the winter woods and look at the gnarled limbs of trees and struggle with the inscrutable and accept the beauty of permanent turmoil?

Of this particular letter he remarked only that it was in a curious envelope, that it was in a man's handwriting, that the postscript was Buenos Ayres, and the stamp of the Argentine Republic.

I'm wearing out, guys. Time to go to sleep.