The ways in which my father would spontaneously arrange words into oddly juxtapositioned concepts and sentences was a talent of which I stand in awe, and will always be immoderately jealous.

April 8th 1970

My Dear Shelly –

A little while ago, I was watching television and saw a dialogue between an interviewer and a young woman director. She was from Sweden, about 24 years of age and quite pretty in a plain sort of way. She had left home at the age of 13 and with a small troupe of five other children they had danced and recited small acting parts all through Europe. They had earned enough to make themselves self-supporting in their travels ~ Vanity is the wind ~ Youth is but a flash of lightning that passes toward the coming on of the future. There is mystery and drama in every far off corner of life in the big city.

I read in Newsweek magazine about a young virtuoso violinist who altho penniless played with soul-stirring genius in the streets of New York City, and he was presented with dinner invitations, gifts and money and thus displayed his intimate talents…