Chaucer
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I hesitated in the grip of withdrawals. “Go! Get out!” Lynn Tanaka firmly told me on my final day on Mayne Island. Taking a few reluctant steps towards the door, my eyes locked on the neatly arranged shelves in her Miners Bay Books. “No more books for you,” she said. There was no sense in
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“Power, money, persuasion, supplication, persecution—these can lift at a colossal humbug—push it a little—weaken it a little, century by century; but only laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast. Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.” Mark Twain, The Mysterious Stranger The other day, I received a note from my
Charles van Heck's Woodhull Journal 