The Wild Palms by William Faulkner
You’ve found your road, you know where you’re going, but I’m still drifting in a chaos of dreams and images not knowing why I write or who it’s for.
Anton Chekhov, The Seagull
Marilyn Monroe by Milton Greene, September 15th 1954
Ron Hicks, Take Me Away, 47½ X 37½ in. framed
Her life was a slow realization that the world was not for her and that for whatever reason she would never be happy and honest at the same time. She felt as if she were brimming always producing and hoarding more love inside her. But there was no release. Table ivory elephant charm rainbow onion hairdo violence melodrama honey… None of it moved her. She addressed the world honestly searching for something deserving of the volumes of love she knew she had within her but to each she would have to say, I don’t love you.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated